j:.>;.  17  1922 


Division        1351^05 
,  "  ,    rr  G  & 


Section 


THE    POETS   OF  THE   OLD 

TESTAMENT 


THE  POETS  OF  THE 
OLD  TESTAMENT 


/-'n^^' 


^^^:i  Or  PH/^r 


ALEX.  R.  GORDON,  D.Litt.,  D.D. 

PROFESSOR  OF  OLD  TESTAMENT  LITERATURE, 
PRESBYTERIAN    COLLEGE^  MONTREAL 


HODDER   AND    STOUGHTON 
NEW  YORK    AND    LONDON 

1919 


Co 

MY    PARENTS 


PREFACE 

AVAST  amount  of  important  work  has  recently 
been  done  on  the  poetry  of  the  Old  Testament. 
Thus  far,  however,  no  attempt  has  been  made  to 
bring  home  the  results,  as  a  unified  whole,  to  the 
English  reader.  The  present  book  seeks,  within  limits, 
to  supply  this  want.  A  brief  sketch  is  first  offered 
of  the  general  characteristics  of  Hebrew  poetry. 
Then  the  growth  of  the  literature  itself  is  traced 
from  its  roots  in  the  old  folk-poetry  of  Israel  to 
ts  full  flower  in  the  Psalter  and  Wisdom  books  hke 
Proverbs  and  Job.  The  aim  has  been  throughout 
to  catch  the  heart  and  spirit  of  the  poetry.  Thus 
questions  of  Introduction  are  treated  only  incident- 
ally, and  by  way  of  approach  to  the  centre.  Trans- 
lations are  also  given  of  the  most  characteristic 
passages,  as  far  as  possible  in  the  rh5rthm  of  the 
original. 

The  scope  of  the  work  might,  indeed,  have  been 
wider.  For  much  of  the  prophetic  literature  of 
the  Old  Testament  is  not  merely  charged  with  the 
true   passion   of  poetry,   but  even  falls  into  the 

vii 


Vlll 


Preface 


balanced  movement  and  cadence  of  verse.  But 
as  the  prophets  were  more  than  poets — men  fired 
with  a  message  from  the  living  God,  whose  poetic 
rhythms  were  but  the  natural  outflow  of  their 
enthusiasm — I  have  thought  it  better  to  leave  them 
out  of  account  in  the  present  work.  On  the  other 
hand,  Ecclesiastes  has  been  included  among  the 
poets.  The  bulk  of  that  book  is,  no  doubt,  pure 
prose.  But  in  its  theme  and  spirit  it  belongs  to 
the  same  category  as  the  Book  of  Job  and  the  more 
speculative  parts  of  Proverbs.  Thus  it  appears  to 
fit  well  into  the  general  purpose  of  the  work.  For 
the  same  reason,  while  no  special  place  has  been 
given  to  the  Apocryphal  books  of  Ecclesiasticus 
and  Wisdom  of  Solomon,  they  have  been  frequently 
drawn  into  comparison  with  the  other  Wisdom 
books.  The  former  has  been  rendered,  where 
possible,  according  to  the  original  Hebrew  version ; 
hence  it  is  usually  referred  to  under  its  Hebrew 
name  of  the  Wisdom  of  Ben  Sira. 

In  the  poetical  literature  the  text  is  peculiarly 
obscure,  and  often  corrupt .  The  keen  criticism  of  the 
past  century  has,  however,  helped  largely  to  recover 
the  original  readings.  The  carefully  sifted  results  of 
criticism  are  now  available  to  the  student  in  Kittel's 
Bihlia  Hebraica.  As  the  present  book  appeals 
chiefly  to  Enghsh  readers,  I  have  not  considered  it 
advisable  to  load  the  pages  with  critical  apparatus. 


Preface  ix 

Where  emendations  have  been  tacitly  accepted, 
therefore,  the  student  is  referred  to  Kittel's  notes. 
In  texts  where  I  have  followed  an  independent 
course,  however,  reasons  have  been  invariably 
given. 

For  the  cause  just  stated,  Biblical  verses  are  num- 
bered as  in  the  English  version,  while  Hebrew  words 
have  been  avoided  in  the  page  proper.  The  scheme  of 
transliteration  is  that  of  Davidson's  Grammar, 
which  is  so  generally  adopted  in  modern  works. 
Perhaps  the  only  difficulty  emerges  in  the  case  of 
the  Divine  name,  which  is  now  usually  trans- 
literated as  Yahweh  or  Yahwe.  This  no  doubt 
reproduces  most  nearly  the  original  sound.  To 
preserve  harmony  with  names  like  Joshua,  Jona- 
than, etc.,  which  occur  in  other  parts  of  the  book, 
I  have  adhered  to  the  older  Jahweh.  But  no  real 
difficulty  will  be  felt  if  the  reader  bear  in  mind  that 
the  Hebrew  /,  like  the  German,  has  the  same 
sound  as  our  English  Y. 

The  translations  offered  are  all  original.  I  must, 
however,  acknowledge  with  gratitude  the  inspira- 
tion I  have  received  from  Principal  George  Adam 
Smith's  renderings  of  Lamentations  ii.  and  iv.  in 
his  Jefusalem,  Vol.  II,  and  certain  other  poetical 
passages  in  his  Historical  Geography  of  the  Holy 
Land,  and  articles  in  the  Expositor.  Many  of  Dr. 
Smith's  cadences  I  have  found  it  impossible  either 


X  Preface 

to  forget  or  to  withhold  ;  and  I  hereby  desire  to 
express  my  obhgations.  In  translating  Psalms  I 
have  been  aided  by  the  versions  of  Driver  (in  his 
Parallel  Psalter),  Cheyne  (in  the  Dry  den  Library), 
and  Wellhausen-Furness  (in  the  Polychrome  Bible). 
References  to  other  literature  will  be  found  in  the 
notes. 

I  have  also  to  express  my  warmest  thanks  to  my 
brother-in-law,  Mr.  James  Georgeson,  M.A.,  Aber- 
deen, who  read  the  proof-sheets,  and  offered  various 
helpful  suggestions  as  the  book  passed  through  the 
press. 

Montreal,  1912. 


Contents 


PAGE 

CHAPTER    I 

General  Characteristics  of  Hebrew  Poetry     .        i 


CHAPTER    II 
The  Folk-Poetry  of  Israel        ,         ...       23 

CHAPTER    III 
Musical  Accompaniments  of  Hebrew  Song         .      50 

CHAPTER    IV 
Golden  Treasuries  of  National  Poetry    .         .      66 

CHAPTER   V 

Thb  Sorrows  of  Death 71 

xi 


xii  Contents 

PAGB 

CHAPTER    VI 
Thb  Psalter       •...*••      97 

CHAPTER   VII 
Thb  Psalmists'  Thoughts  of  God       .        •        .     120 

CHAPTER    VIII 

The  Glory  of  God  in  Nature  .         ,         .     142 

CHAPTER    IX 
The  Image  of  God  in  Man  ....     153 

CHAPTER   X 
Life  and  Immortality         .        •        •        •        •    167 

CHAPTER    XI 
The  Kingdom  of  God  in  the  Psalms  •         .     185 

CHAPTER    XII 
The  Book  of  Job        ...•••    202 


Contents  xiii 

PAGE 

CHAPTER    XIII 
The  Patience  of  Job 223 

CHAPTER    XIV 
Thb  Spiritual  Drama  of  Job      •        •         .         .     229 

CHAPTER    XV 
The  Book  of  Proverbs 255 

CHAPTER    XVI 
The  Good  Man  of  the  Proverbs        •         .         .271 

CHAPTER    XVII 
The  Thoughts  of  the  Wise        ....     295 

CHAPTER    XVIII 
Thb  Song  of  Songs 309 

CHAPTER   XIX 
Vanity  of  Vanities 329 


CHAPTER    I 

General     Characteristics  of    Hebrew 


Poetry 


The  living  spring  of  poetry  is  emotion.  This  is  self- 
evident  of  lyrical  effusions,  which  are  '  the  spon- 
taneous overflow  of  powerful  feelings.'  But  the 
other  species  of  poetry  are  fed  at  the  same  fountain. 
A  fresh,  strong  thought  or  lofty  imagination  seizes 
the  sensitive  spirit.  Or  a  world  of  radiant  figures  is 
born  within  him.  But  before  it  can  emerge  as 
poetry,  the  whole  must  be  charged  with  the  heart's 
own  passion.  This  inward  '  inspiration  '  of  poetry 
has  been  recognized  by  the  keenest  critics  from  Plato 
onwards.  And  no  less  vital  an  influence  can  ex- 
plain the  power  by  which  it  holds  captive  successive 
generations  of  mankind,  communicating  something 
of  its  own  rapture  to  those  who  sing  or  hear  the 
strains  even  in  the  most  distant  ages.  Poetry 
comes  from  the  heart,  and  goes  to  the  heart ;  and 
the  deepest  and  most  abiding  appeals  are  always 
those  of  heart  to  heart. 

The  peculiar  genius  of  the  Semitic  family  lies  in 
this  region.    These  peoples  were  all  the  children  of 


2   The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

passionate  feeling.     And  the  Hebrews  shared  to  the 
full  in  the  common  race  temperament.     They  loved 
intensely,  and  they  hated  intensely.     To  the  patriot- 
ic  Hebrew   the  love  of  home  and  country  was  a 
veritable  fire  in  his  bones.     Jerusalem  was  counted 
'  above  his  chief  joy  ; '   and  his  heart  was  strangely 
moved  whenever  he  was  led  to  speak  of  her  glory  or 
her  shame.     The  glowing  ardour  of  his  friendship 
almost  equalled  his  love  for  Zion.     And  the  hot 
flame  of  his  hatred  burned  with  as  vehement  a  force. 
The  Hebrew  poets  exulted  with  real  savage  glee  over 
the  downfall  of  the  oppressor.     They  could  even 
bless  the  hand  that  took  their  little  ones,  and  dashed 
them  against    the    rock ;    while  no  passion  could 
exceed  in  fury  that  with  which  the  Jews  of  a  later 
age  hurried  the  Prince  of  their  people  to  the  cross. 
Thus,  even  apart  from  the  influence  of  religion,  the 
Hebrew  spirit  contained  within  itself  the  potentiality 
of  great  poetry.     And  when  we  add  to  this  natural 
endowment  in  feeling  the  inspiration  of  the  pure 
and  elevated  faith  committed  to  the  Hebrews,  there 
seems  no  limit  to  the  heights  that  spirit  might  reach. 
The  poetry  of  other  nations  may  be  arrayed  in  a 
robe  of  more  exquisite  beauty  ;  but  none  is  inspired 
by  richer,  nobler  emotion. 

The  element  of  feeling  is  found,  to  some  extent, 
in  every  human  soul.  Thus,  as  Carlyle  fancies, 
there  may  exist  a  vein  of  poetry  in  the  hearts  of  all 


characteristics  of  Hebrew  Poetry    3 

men.  The  distinction  of  the  heaven-born  poet  is 
that  he  not  merely  feels,  and  that  more  keenly  than 
other  men,  but  likewise  gives  immortal  expression 
to  the  feelings  that  thus  well  up  within  him.  And 
perhaps  no  words  can  better  convey  the  peculiar 
quality  of  poetic  speech  than  Milton's  oft-quoted 
remark,  that  it  must  be  '  simple,  sensuous,  and 
passionate.'  ^  Other  ideals  have,  indeed,  held  sway 
in  their  time.  But  true  poetry  has  always  come 
back  to  the  realities  of  Nature  and  life.  Poetry 
being  the  language  of  the  heart,  that  style  is  most 
appropriate  which  speaks  directly  and  unaffectedly 
to  the  heart.     For  the  same  reason,  poetic  diction  is  / 

'  sensuous  '  or  pictorial.  The  sphere  of  cold  ab-  \/ 
straction  is  altogether  alien  to  poetry.  Its  world 
is  one  of  warm,  full-blooded  life,  suffused  with  glow 
ing  imagination,  and  rich  in  figures  of  speech — meta- 
phors and  similes  and  pictures  drawn  or  suggested. 
in  like  manner,  poetry  is  passionate.  Being  inspired 
by  feeling,  it  must  also  throb  with  feeling.  The 
touch  of  passion  is,  indeed,  the  truest  test  of  the 
feeling  which  is  the  very  soul  of  poetry. 

If  we  may  judge  by  these  standards,  the  Hebrew 
speech  approves  itself  one  of  the  fittest  vehicles  of 


*  '  To  which  {i.e.  Logic  and  Rhetoric)  poetry  would  be  made 
subsequent,  or,  indeed,  rather  precedent,  as  being  less  subtile 
and  fine,  but  more  simple,  sensuous,  and  passionate,' — Tractate 
on  Education, 


4   The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

poetical  expression.  Like  other  Semitic  languages, 
it  is  marked  by  great  simplicity  of  form.  The 
rigidity  of  its  three-lettered  root  scheme,  its  lack  of 
precise  distinctions  of  time  within  the  verb  forms, 
its  weakness  in  connective  particles,  and  its  general 
incapacity  for  abstractions,  prevented  its  ever 
attaining  the  subtle  logical  effects  of  Greek  or  our 
complex  modern  languages.  But  this  very  failure 
in  philosophical  grasp  enhances  the  pictorial  power 
of  the  speech.  In  Hebrew  all  things  appear  in 
action.  The  verb  is  the  predominant  element  in 
the  sentence.^  And,  though  the  shades  of  time- 
distinction  are  blurred,  the  richness  of  the  language 
in  intensive  forms  throws  the  precise  complexion  of 
the  act  into  clear,  strong  light.  But  even  the  sim- 
plicity of  the  tenses  heightens  the  pictorial  effect ; 
and  the  paratactic  connexion  of  the  clauses  gives 
the  Hebrew  sentence  the  appearance  of  a  series  of 
artistic  strokes,  often  of  gemlike  brilliance.  Hebrew 
possesses    likewise    a   great    wealth    of    synonyms, 

I  '  Since  action  and  delineation  are  the  ver)'  essence  of  poetry, 
and  since  the  verb  is  the  part  of  speech  that  depicts  action,  or 
rather  sets  the  action  itself  directly  before  us,  the  language  that 
is  rich  in  expressive,  pictorial  verbs  is  a  poetical  language  ;  and 
the  more  fully  it  can  convert  its  nouns  into  verbs,  the  more 
poetical  it  is.  ,  .  .  Now  in  Hebrew  the  verb  is  almost  every- 
thing— that  is,  all  is  hfe  and  action.  .  .  .  The  language  of 
which  we  are  speaking  is  a  very  abyss  of  verbs,  a  sea  of  waves, 
where  action  ever  rolls  surging  into  action.' — Herder,  Geist  cUr 
hebraischen  Poesie,  Suphan's  edition,  xi,  227. 


Characteristics  of  Hebrew  Poetry    5 

especially  in  descriptions  of  the  common  scenes  and 
interests  of  life,  and  in  the  region  of  feeling.  The 
language  is  equally  rich  in  imagery.  The  daring 
boldness  and  luxuriance  of  its  figures  are,  indeed, 
almost  oppressive  to  the  modern  mind.  But  the 
Hebrew  poet  himself  was  unconscious  of  any  wanton 
riot  of  imagination.  To  him  the  bold,  swift  changes 
of  metaphor  were  natural  reflections  of  the  play  of 
passion  in  the  soul.  For  Hebrew  poetry  is  pre- 
eminently passionate.  The  '  simple,  sensuous  ' 
speech  is  but  a  veil,  which  thrills  and  quivers  with 
the  poet's  every  passing  emotion. 

The  fiery  energy  of  Hebrew  is  often  felt  to  be 
gained  at  the  expense  of  beauty.  The  profusion  of 
compressed  consonants,  sibilants  and  gutturals  even 
conveys  to  Western  ears  an  unpleasing  impression  of 
piercing  intensity  and  harshness.  But  the  sharper 
sibilants  are  mainly  expressive  of  keen  emotions  of 
grief  or  triumph,  and  are  thus  in  artistic  harmony 
with  the  passionate  genius  of  the  language,  while 
the  purity  with  which  the  gutturals  are  breathed 
from  the  open  throat  tones  down  the  harshness  that 
might  otherwise  be  felt.^     Hebrew  has  its  full  share, 

1  '  The  Northern  speeches  imitate  the  sound  of  Nature — but 
they  do  this  roughly,  and,  as  it  were,  only  from  without.  They 
creak,  rustle,  hiss  and  jar,  like  the  objects  themselves.  .  .  . 
The  further  South  we  go,  the  more  delicate  becomes  the  imitation 
of  Nature.  The  words  have  passed  through  the  finer  medium 
of  emotion,  and  are  framed  as  it  were  in  the  region  of  the  heart. 


6   The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

too,  of  the  more  liquid  consonants,  with  a  variety  of 
vowel  tones  ranging  from  the  rich  broad  a  to  the 
light  sh^wa,  yielding  the  possibility  of  a  manifold 
interplay  of  sounds.  The  strength  of  the  double 
letters,  with  the  normal .  alternations  of  vowel  and 
consonant,  give  the  language  also  something  of  the 
tuneful  flexibility  of  Arabic  or  Italian.  The  Hebrew 
poets  were  fully  aware  of  the  musical  potentialities 
of  their  speech,  and  sensitive  to  the  magical  effects 
produced  by  harmonies  of  sound.  The  musical 
quality  of  Hebrew  may  be  appreciated  even  by  the 
Western  student  who  listens  sympathetically  to 
the  rendering  of  the  Sabbath  service  in  the  Syn- 
agogues especially  of  the  Spanish  Jews.  And  the 
poetry  of  the  Old  Testament  shows  harmonious 
effects  of  surprising  power.  The  reproduction  of 
the  furious  gallop  of  the  strong  ones  '  by  the  waters 

They  yield  us,  therefore,  not  coarse  reproductions  of  sound,  but 
images  on  which  feeling  has  impressed  its  softer  seal,  thus  modi- 
fying them  from  within.  Of  this  tone-blending  of  inward  feel- 
ing and  outward  representation  in  the  roots  of  the  verbs  the 
Oriental  languages  are  a  model.  .  .  .  We  make  a  point  of 
speaking  only  from  between  the  tongue  and  the  lips,  opening  our 
mouths  as  little  as  possible,  as  though  we  hved  among  smoke 
and  fog.  .  .  .  The  Italians  and  still  more  the  Greeks  speak 
ore  rotunda,  not  biting  their  lips  together.  The  Eastern  world 
draws  its  tones  yet  deeper  from  the  breast — out  of  the  very 
heart — as  Elihu  begins  his  speech  (Job  xxxii.  i8ff.).  The  lips 
being  opened  th  s  clearly,  the  speech  becomes  a  really  living 
sound,  an  actual  image  of  the  object  breathed  forth  in  the  atmo- 
sphere of  emotion  ;  and  tliis  I  judge  to  be  the  'spirit  of  the  Hebrew 
tongue.' — Herder,  op.  cit.,  pp.  23if. 


characteristics  of  Hebrew  Poetry    7 

of  Megiddo,'  or  the  crashing  of  the  fatal  blow  on 
Sisera,  in  the  sounding  notes  of  Deborah's  great 
battle-hymn  (Judg.  v.  22,  26),  the  unmistakable 
suggestions  of  the  '  surging  of  the  peoples,  that 
surge  like  the  surging  of  the  seas/  and  the  '  rushing 
of  nations,  that  rush  like  the  rushing  of  mighty 
waters '  (Isa.  xvii.  I2ff.),  and  Nahum's  brilliant 
picture  of  the  flashing  and  raging  of  the  war-chariots 
at  the  assault  of  Nineveh  (Nah.  ii.  3ff.),  rank  among 
the  finest  verbal  effects  in  literature.  But  even 
apart  from  such  obvious  efforts  of  art,  and  the 
simpler  musical  charms  produced  by  alliteration 
and  assonance,  the  Hebrew  poets  display  a  true 
power  in  the  wedding  of  sounds  to  tones  of  feeling. 
Blany  of  the  Psalms  are  real  studies  in  harmony. 
The  first,  for  example,  opens  with  a  play  of  sibilants 
gliding  into  easy  liquids  and  labials,  as  the  Psalmist 
passes  from  the  dark  and  dangerous  paths  of  the 
wicked  to  contemplate  the  joyous  fortunes  of  the 
good.  With  V.  4  the  duller  sounds  predominate, 
the  tone  only  rising  in  sympathy  with  the  expression 
of  sure  confidence  in  v.  6.  The  second  Psalm 
offers  a  yet  more  remarkable  example  of  tonal 
harmony.  The  tumultuous  gathering  of  the  nations 
is  depicted  in  a  series  of  rushing  sh,  r,  and  m  sounds, 
supported  mainly  by  heavy  vowels.  As  the  enemy 
take  counsel  together  against  the  Almighty,  the  tone 
rises  almost  to  a  shriek  through  a  succession  of 


8    The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

compressed  consonants,  p,  s,  and  ^,  mingled  with 
the  sharper  vowels  i,  e,  and  short  a.  In  v.  3 
the  breaking  of  the  chains  is  distinctly  audible  in 
the  snapping  notes  of  the  verb  n^naWkdh.  The 
subsequent  transition  from  the  calm  majesty  in 
which  the  Almighty  sits  enthroned  in  heaven  to 
His  outbreak  of  stormy  indignation  against  the 
wicked  is  equally  well  reflected  in  the  sound  of  the 
verses.  In  contrast  with  the  rage  and  tumult  of 
this  Psalm,  the  eighth  offers  a  good  example  of  the 
feeling  of  repose  and  confidence  suggested  by  the 
quieter  tones  of  speech,  while  through  the  pastoral 
beauty  of  the  twenty-third  an  unmistakable  effect 
is  produced  by  the  gently  rustling  sh  sounds  and 
the  murmuring  ms.  The  same  aesthetic  pleasure 
is  gained  from  a  study  of  the  finer  passages  of  the 
Song  of  Songs  and  Job.  In  the  glad  Spring-song 
(Song  ii.  8ff.)  the  vowels  and  consonants  seem  to 
dance  in  harmony  with  the  rhythm.  The  changing 
moods  of  Job  are  likewise  reflected  in  the  sounds. 
Thus  the  general  tone  of  the  picture  of  Sheol  (iii. 
I3ff.)  is  grave  and  dull,  the  radiant  vision  of  Job's 
past  happiness  (ch.  xxix.)  is  pitched  on  a  high,  clear 
key,  while  the  majesty  of  the  Divine  utterance  is 
sustained  by  a  rich  variety  of  verbal  harmonies. 

In  close  relation  to  the  musical  quality  of  poetic 
speech  is  its  rhythmical  movement.  This  also 
reflects  the  play  of  the  emotions.     Under  the  influ- 


Characteristics  of  Hebrew  Poetry    9 

ence  of  any  deep  passion,  the  heart  heaves  beneath 
the  tide  of  feeling  with  a  surging  motion  whose  ebb 
and  flow  resemble  the  onward  sweep  of  the  breakers 
on   the    shore.      Our  quieter  feelings  find  likewise 
their  relief  in  rhythmical  waves.     And  this  is  but 
part  of  a  far  wider  movement ;    for    Nature    and 
life  are  one  vast  universe  of  rhythms.     In  giving 
utterance  to  his  feelings  in  rhythmical  form,  the 
poet  is  no  doubt  directly  impelled  by  the  inward 
movement  of  his  soul.     But  stimuli  from  without 
also   bear   upon   him.     In   his    classical   study   of 
Work  and  Rhythm,  Professor  Karl  Biicher  of  Leipzig 
has  traced  the  far-reaching  influence  of  the  rhythm 
of  daily  labour  in  primitive  folk-poetry.     But,  even 
in  these  lower  ranges  of  art,  imitation  of  the  sounds 
and  movements  of  animal  life  makes  likewise  for 
rhythmical  utterance.     Arabic  scholars  are  generally 
agreed  in  connecting  the  peculiar  stride  of  the  typi- 
cal Arabic  poem  with  the  slow,  steady  march  of 
the  camel.     The  rider  crooning  his  lay  insensibly 
fell  into  the  camel's  swing,  and  so  gave  his  poetry 
that  particular  movement,  though  even  in  Arabic 
the  more  rapid  rhythm  of  the  gallop  may  be  caught 
at  times.     In  the  ascending  scale  of  art,  many  other 
impulses  touch  the  poet's  imagination,  causing  his 
strain  to 

'  modulate  with  murmurs  of  the  air. 
And  motions  of  the  forest  and  the  sea. 


I  o  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

And  voice  of  living  beings,  and  woven  hymns 
Of  night  and  day,  and  the  deep  heart  of  man.' 

The  qualities  thus  far  dwelt  upon  are  not,  however, 
quite  peculiar  to  poetry.  In  its  more  elevated 
moods,  when  inspired  by  a  rapture  of  emotion 
resembling  that  of  poetr}^  the  less  impassioned 
speyech  of  prose  may  assume  the  '  simple,  sensuous, 
and  passionate  '  garb,  the  natural  music,  and  even 
the  rhythmical  movement,  so  characteristic  of 
poetry.  Thus  many  writers  have  not  hesitated  to 
obliterate  the  lines,  and  to  describe,  for  example, 
the  melodious  periods  of  Plato,  the  glowing  outbursts 
of  orators  like  Demosthenes  and  Burke,  and  the 
magical  cadences  of  the  Authorized  Version  of  the 
Bible,  as  prose  poetry.  Such  criticism  is  natural 
enough  in  days  when  the  original  connexion  of 
poetry  with  song  and  dance  has  been  largely  for- 
gotten. But  in  ancient  times  poetry  was  no  mere 
literary  art,  to  be  cultivated  for  its  own  ends.  The 
poem  was  a  real  song  sung  to  the  accompaniment  of 
music  and  dancing.  And  even  when  poetry  has 
forsaken  its  former  affinities,  the  impulse  to  song 
remains.  This  of  necessity  involves  a  certain 
measure  in  the  rhythm.  In  other  words,  poetry 
is  metrical.  The  rhythmical  measure  may  show 
wide  variety  in  form.  It  may  be  marked  by  feet 
of  regular  quantity  or  length,  as  in  the  classical 
languages  and  Arabic,  or  by  the  number  of  accented 


Characteristics  of  Hebrew  Poetry  1 1 

syllables  within  the  verse,  as  in  old  Latin,  Germanic, 
and  English  poetry.  The  fundamental  principle 
of  metre  demands  only  that  the  rhythm  should 
move  in  artistic  harmony  with  musical  time.^  And 
this  law  is  strictly  observed  even  by  poets  who  the- 
oretically refuse  to  be  bound  by  it. 

The  presence  of  a  certain  fixed  measure  in  the 
movement  of  Hebrew  verse  was  first  clearly  per- 
ceived by  Robert  Lowth  in  his  epoch-making  lec- 
tures De  Sacra  Poesi  Hebraeorum  (1753).  In  his 
vain  search  for  a  metre  resembling  that  of  classical 
poetry,  he  observed  that  '  the  poetry  of  the  Hebrews 
shows  a  peculiar  conformation  of  sentences,  .  .  . 
whereby  the  poets  repeat  one  and  the  same  idea  in 
different  words,  or  combine  different  ideas  within 
the  same  form  of  words,  like  things  being  related 
to  like,  or  opposites  set  in  contrast  to  opposites.'  ' 
In  other  words,  instead  of  pursuing  a  direct  course 
onwards,  the  second  half  of  the  verse,  as  it  were, 
doubles  back  on  the  first,  reiterating  the  same 
thought,  either  with  some  play  of  variation  in  words, 
or  by  way  of  contrast.  On  the  basis  of  this  observa- 
tion Lowth  developed  his  principle  of  parallelismus 
membrorum — the  parallelism  of  the  individual  mem- 


^  Cf.  Sydney  Lanier's  admirable  analysis    in  his  Science  of 
English   Verse,  pp.  97fi. 

*  De    Sacra    Poesi    Hebraeorum,   ed.    Rosenmiiller     (Leipzig 
1815),  p.  36. 


1 2  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

bers,  or  stichoi,  of  the  verse.  The  principle  covers 
a  wide  variety  of  forms  ;  but  for  convenience  Lowth 
distinguished  three  main  species  : — 

(i)  Synonymous,  where  the  original  thought  is 
repeated  or  echoed  '  in  different  but  equivalent 
terms,'  as  in  the  opening  bars  of  the  Song  of  Deborah 
(Judg.  v.  3), 

Hear,  O  kings. 

Give  ear,  ye  princes  I 
I  to  Jahweh — even  I  will  sing, 

I  will  sing  praises  to  Jahweh,  the  God  of  Israel  ; 

or  in  the  first  Psalm  {v.  i),  where  we  have  an  in- 
stance of  what  Lowth  describes  as  a  '  triplet  paral- 
lelism,' 

O  happy  the  man 
That  walketh  not  in  the  counsel  of  the  wicked. 
Nor  standeth  in  the  way  of  sinners. 
Nor  sitteth  in  the  seat  of  the  scornful ; 

(2)  Antithetic,  '  where  a  theme  is  illustrated  by 
contrast  with  its  opposite,'  as  in  the  closing  verse 
of  the  same  Psalm, 

For  Jahweh  knoweth  the  righteous. 
But  the  way  of  the  wicked  shall  perish  ; 

and  (3)  synthetic  or  constructive,  where  the  idea  is 
completed  in  certain  directions,  as  in  Ps.  ii.  6, 

Yet  have  I  set  my  king 
On  Zion,  my  holy  hill  ; 

or  in  much  fuller  elaboration  in  Ps.  i.  3, 


Characteristics  of  Hebrew  Poetry  i  3 

He  shall  be  like  a  tree 
Planted  by  streams  of  water. 

That  yieldeth  its  fruit  in  its  season, 

A  nd  whose  leaf  fadeth  not  ; 
Even  all  that  he  doth  he  maketh  to  prosper.^ 

To  the  three  varieties  of  parallelism  thus  distin- 
guished by  Lowth,  a  fourth  is  now  generally  added, 
namely,  climactic  or  ascending,  where  the  changes 
are  rung  on  some  key-word  or  phrase.  A  simple 
example  of  this  species  of  parallelism  is  found  in 
Ps.  xxix.  I, 

Render  to  Jahweh,  sons  of  the  Mighty, 
Render  to  Jahweh  glory  and  strength. 

But  much  more  complex  illustrations  are  to  be  met 
with  in  the  Songs  of  Ascents,  as  in  Ps.  cxxi.  iff., 
where  various  catch-words  are  repeated. 

To  the  hills  I  lift  mine  eyes  : 

O  whence  doth  come  my  help  ? 
My  help  {doth  come)  from  Jahweh, 

That  made  the  heavens  and  earth. 

Thy  foot  He'll  not  let  slide  ; 

Thy  Keeper  slumbers  not. 
He  slumbers  not,  nor  sleeps. 

That  keepeth  Israel. 

The  principle  of  parallelism  is  by  no  means  con- 
fined to  the  poetry  of  the  Hebrews.  Among  Oriental 
nations,  it  belongs  also  to  the  Assyrians  and  Egypt- 
ians. But  it  had  originally  a  much  wider  extension. 
Traces  may  be  found  in  the  earliest  poetry  of  many 

Op,  cit.,  pp.  208S 


1 4  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

different  peoples.  And,  though  more  developed  art 
has  largely  discarded  the  form,  it  still  survives  in 
hymnology  and  popular  poetry.  The  songs  of 
Burns,  for  example,  are  full  of  it.  The  best  explan- 
ation of  the  principle  is  still  that  put  forth  by  Herder 
as  a  complement  to  Lowth's  more  limited  hypo- 
thesis— that  it  follows  naturally  from  the  responsive 
mode  of  primitive  folk-song.  And,  however  alien 
it  may  seem  to  our  modern  taste,  a  real  aesthetic 
charm  lingers  round  its  simple  symmetry.  The 
parallel  lines,  as  it  were,  come  dancing  to  meet  each 
other,  like  the  singing  choruses  that  gave  them  form. 
Thus,  as  Herder  finely  puts  it,  '  they  sustain, 
uplift,  and  strengthen  each  other  in  their  counsel 
or  their  joy.  This  result  is  obvious  in  songs  of 
triumph.  The  effect  aimed  at  through  the  mournful 
notes  of  sorrow,  on  the  other  hand,  is  that  of  the 
sigh  or  lamentation.  As  the  very  drawing  of  the 
breath  seems  to  support  and  comfort  the  soul,  so 
does  the  other  half  of  the  chorus  share  in  our  sorrow, 
becoming  the  echo,  or,  as  the  Hebrews  say,  the 
daughter,  of  our  expression  of  grief.  In  didactic  odes 
the  one  line  strengthens  the  other.  It  is  as  though 
the  father  spoke  to  his  son,  and  the  mother  repeated 
his  words.  The  counsel  thus  becomes  so  very  true, 
cordial,  and  intimate.  In  love-songs,  again,  we 
have  sweet  lovers'  talk — a  real  interchange  of  hearts 
and  thoughts.     In  fine,  so  simple  a  bond  of  family 


characteristics  of  Hebrew  Poetry  1 5 

affection  is  formed  between  the  two  parallel  expres- 
sions of  feeling,  that  I  may  readily  apply  to  them 
the  words  of  the  tender  Hebrew  ode  (Ps.  cxxxiii.), 
Behold,  how  good  and  how  pleasant  it  is  for  brethren 
to  dwell  together  in  unity,  etc'  ^ 

Parallelism  may  thus  be  described  as  a  kind  of 
measured  rhythm  in  lines,  reflecting  an  inward  rhythm 
of  thought  or  feeling.  It  is  widely  assumed,  indeed, 
that  this  is  the  only  real  measure  Hebrew  has  to 
show.  Kuenen  has  expressed  this  view  with  charac- 
teristic force  in  his  round  assertion  :  '  metrical 
the  poetry  of  Israel  is  not.'  ^  The  prevalent  scep- 
ticism is  naturally  enough  explained  by  the  failure 
of  so  many  theories  on  the  subject.  But  the  vital 
connexion  of  poetry  with  music  and  dancing  in 
ancient  Israel,  as  among  other  nations,  seems  to 
necessitate  a  metre  of  some  sort.  A  mere  '  rhythm 
of  thought '  cannot  satisfy  the  demands  of  poetic 
art  ;  for  the  poet's  thoughts  and  feelings  must  be 
conveyed  through  the  medium  of  sound.  And  the 
long  quest  of  a  metrical  principle  in  Hebrew  poetry 
has,  at  all  events,  brought  us  within  sight  of  the 
goal.  The  first  investigators  sought  for  a  metre  of 
the  classical  type.  But  no  real  result  could  thus 
be  arrived  at.  The  decisive  impulse  in  the  con- 
trary direction  was  given  by  J.  J.  Bellermann's 
suggestive  Essay  on  Hebrew  Metre  (Berlin,   1813). 

*  op.  cit„  p.  237.  *  Historisch-critisch  Onderzoek,  iii.  14. 


1 6  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

Like  his  precursors,  Bellermann  proceeded  on  the 
assumption  that  Hebrew  metre  was  quantitative. 
But,  finding  it  impossible  to  determine  the  length  of 
the  syllables  by  themselves,  he  called  in  the  help  of 
accent.  As  the  result,  he  was  enabled  to  build  up  a 
metrical  system  which  often  strikingly  anticipates 
the  more  recent  work  on  the  subject.  A  bold  step 
forward  was  taken  by  Ernst  Meier  of  Tiibingen,^ 
who  came  to  Hebrew  poetry  fresh  from  the  fields  of 
Suabian  folk-lore,  feeling  that  'his  travels  of  dis- 
covery there  contributed  far  more  to  the  understand- 
ing of  the  Old  Testament  than  he  could  possibly  have 
gained  from  a  journey  to  Jerusalem.'  Influenced 
chiefly  by  his  researches  in  folk-poetry,  Meier  frankly 
abandoned  the  quantitative  standpoint,  resting  his 
theory  of  Hebrew  metre  on  a  purely  accentual  basis. 
In  this  he  was  followed  by  Julius  Ley,^  whose  life- 
long labour  at  the  problem  raised  Hebrew  metrics 
to  the  dignity  of  a  science.  Both  Meier  and  Ley  made 
the  metrical  movement  to  depend  essentially  on 
the  number  of  accented  syllables.  Of  the  weaker, 
unaccented  elements,  according  to  Meier,  '  as  many 
may  precede  or  follow  the  accented  syllables  as  can 
be  pronounced  within  the  given  duration  of  time.' 


*  Die  Form  der  hebrdischen  Poesie  (Tubingen,   1853). 

'  Cf.  especially  his  Gnmdzuge  des  Rhythmus,  etc.  (Halle,  1875), 
and  the  supplementary  Leitfaden  der  Metrik  der  hebr,  Poesie 
(Halle,  1887). 


Characteristics  of  Hebrew  Poetry  1 7 

Against  the  freedom  thus  asserted,  a  remarkable 
tour  de  force  was  launched  by  the  Roman  Catholic 
scholar,  Gustav  Bickell  of  Vienna/    who  insisted 
that  Hebrew  metre  was  both  accentual  and  syllabic 
— that  it  rested,  in  fact,  '  on  the  regular  interchange 
of  accented  and  un?xcented  s^dlables/      The  carry- 
ing through  of  this  hypothesis  involved  such  whole- 
sale mutilation  of  the  text  that  it  has  been  almost 
universally   abandoned,   though   Bickell's   brilliant 
work  in  textual  criticism  will  long  preserve  his  name 
in  honour.    The  original  position  of  Meier  and  Ley 
has  been  strongly  fortified  by  the  recent  studies  of 
expert    metricists    like    Sievers  *    and    Rothstein,^ 
as  the  result  of  which  it  may  with  real  confidence 
be  asserted  that  Hebrew  metre,  like  Anglo-Saxon 
and  later  English,  is  governed  by  the  number  of 
strong  accents  within  the  verse,  the  intervals  being 
filled  by  a  somewhat  free  choice  of  weaker  elements, 
their  number  being  limited,  in  fact,  solely  by  the 
demands  of  musical  time.     The  same  principle  has 
recently  been  established  as  regulative  in  Assyro- 
Babylonian  poetry.     And,  in  spite  of  the  influence 
of  classical  Arabic,  it  still  survives  in  the  folk-poetry 
of  Palestine,  as  elsewhere  through  the  simpler  strata 
of  Semitic  civilization. 

*  Metrices    Biblicae   regulae    exemplis   illustratae    (Innsbruck, 
1879)  ;  Carmina  veteris  Testamenti  metrice  (Inns.,  1882) ;  etc. 

*  Studien  zur  hebr.  Metrik  (Leipzig,  1901,  and  following  years). 
'  Grundtiige  des  hebr.  Rhythmus  (Leipzig,  1909). 

2 


1 8  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

The  prevailing  foot  in  Hebrew  is  of  the  nature  of 
the  Greek  anapaest,  two  weak  syllables  being 
clinched  by  a  strongly  accented  one.  But  the  trans- 
ition is  easy  to  the  iambic  or  the  paean.  This 
lends  to  Hebrew  verse  more  elasticity  of  movement 
than  the  Greek  feeling  for  sj^mmetry  would  tolerate. 
And  the  same  freedom  appears  in  the  metrical  struc- 
ture especially  of  the  older  poetry.  The  most  fre- 
quent measure  in  Hebrew  is  marked  by  three  pulses, 
or  strong  accents,  in  each  stichos.  This  type  is 
predominant  through  the  Psalter,  as  well  as  in 
poems  like  Job  and  Canticles,  where  the  movement 
of  feeling  is  normal.  But  often  in  the  battle-poetry, 
and  in  certain  of  the  more  majestic  Psalms,  such  as 
the  forty-sixth  and  sixty-eighth,  a  broader  rhythmi- 
cal movement  is  gained  by  the  breaking  in  of  the  four- 
pulsed  type,  analogous  to  our  own  ballad-metre. 
In  the  swift  rush  of  battle,  or  the  gaiety  of  the 
dance,  this  may  resolve  itself  into  short  musical 
phrases  of  two  pulses  each,  a  variety  which  adds 
much  to  the  life  and  energy  of  the  poetry  (cf .  Exod. 
XV.  gff.  ;  Song  ii,  8ff.).  But  the  most  interesting 
measure  in  Hebrew  is  the  elegiac,  which  consists 
essentially  in  a  combination  of  the  three-  and  two- 
pulsed  metres.  The  peculiarity  of  the  elegiac  type 
was  first  noted  by  Lowth,  who  in  his  study  of  Lam. 
i.-iv.  observed  that  '  the  verses  are  clearly  longer  by 
almost  one  half  than  those  we  usually  meet  else- 


characteristics  of  Hebrew  Poetry  1 9 

where.'  ^  A  more  precise  definition  was  given  by 
Bellermann,  who  found  the  prevailing  structure  of 
Lam.  iii.  to  be  a  hemistich  of  three  feet  followed 
by  another  of  two,  and  proposed  in  consequence  to 
name  the  measure  '  five-footed.'  ^  Ley  also  de- 
scribed it  as  the  'elegiac  pentameter.'^  But  it  was 
reserved  for  Budde  to  explain  the  real  nature  of  the 
verse.  As  a  sequel  to  his  youthful  assault  on  Le3?''s 
metrical  system,  he  established  afresh  this  '  one 
fixed  metrical  form,'  which  he  found  in  evidence, 
not  merely  through  the  four  related  chapters  of 
Lamentations,  but  wherever  poet  or  prophet  fell  into 
the  dirge-note  for  the  dead.  Budde  characterized 
the  measure  as  a  '  limping  '  or  broken  one,  finely 
expressing  the  choking  of  the  voice  in  the  hour  of 
grief  or  agony,  and  peculiarly  associated,  as  it  is 
to  the  present  day,  with  the  laments  of  the  mourning 
women.  Thus  he  suggested  for  the  verse  the  name 
of  the  kindh,  or  lamentation,  measure.*  As  the 
result  of  further  investigation,  Budde  traced  the  kindh 
measure  through  large  sections  of  II  Isaiah,  in  the 
Songs  of  Ascents,  and  even  in  Psalms  like  the 
twenty-third  and  twenty-seventh,  where  the  note 
is  distinctively  joyous.  The  apparent  contradiction 
he  sought  to  explain  by  the  theory  that  lamentations 
in  Israel  came  to  be  associated  mainly  with  the 

*  op.  cit.,  p.  260.     *  Versuch,  etc.,  p.  137. 

3  Grf.ndziige,  etc.,  pp.  52!.     *  ZATW.,  1882,  pp.  iff. 


2  o  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

sorrows  of  Zion,  and  that '  songs  of  Zion/  and  hence 
also  lyrics  of  very  different  quality  and  motive, 
assumed  the  elegiac  dress. ^  But  one  need  not  resort 
to  so  artificial  an  hypothesis.  Under  the  influence 
of  any  keen  emotion — of  joy  as  well  as  grief — the 
voice  will  quiver  and  break.  Thus  the  choking 
elegiac  measure  is  equally  appropriate  to  both  ex- 
tremes of  feeling.  And  the  transition  is  easily 
effected,  not  only  in  Hebrew  poetry,  but  also  in 
Greek  and  Latin,  where  the  plaintive  elegiac,  the 
original  accompaniment  of  the  funeral  dirge,  has 
become  a  popular  metre  also  for  songs  of  love  and 
pleasure. 

The  unit  in  Hebrew  poetry  is  thus  the  verse,  con- 
sisting normally  of  two  stichoi  in  parallel  relation.^ 
That  these  units  are  often  combined  to  form  larger 
groups  (stanzas  or  strophes)  is  evident  from  several 
indications,  such  as  the  phenomena  of  alphabetical 
poems,  where  two  or  more  verses  are  linked  together 
under  the  heading  of  successive  letters  of  the  alpha- 
bet, the  appearance  of  refrains  in  a  number  of  the 
Psalms  and  elsewhere,  and  the  recurrence  of  the 
musical  term  seidh,  usually  at  the  close  of  well- 
marked  sections  of  the  poem.     But  even  apart  from 


»  ZATIV.,  1891,  pp.  234ff.,   1892,  pp.  3iff.,  261S. 

*  Tristichs  are  occasionally  found,  e.g.  in  parts  of  the  Song  of 
Moses  (Exod.  xv.),  a  few  Psalms  like  xxiv.  yff.,  xlv.  and  c, 
and  certain  later  elements  of  Job  (xxiv.  i2fE.,  xxx.  ifi.)- 


characteristics  of  Hebrew  Poetry  2 1 

signs  like  these,  clear  divisions  of  thought  may  be  de- 
tected in  the  movement  of  the  piece.  On  these  ob- 
servations various  theories  of  strophic  arrangement 
have  been  built.  The  most  elaborate  is  D.  H.  Miiller's 
scheme  of  Responsion,  based  on  parallelism  of  the 
strophes.  On  the  other  hand,  Duhm  and  Rothstein 
bring  virtually  the  whole  of  Hebrew  poetry  into 
simple  quatrains,  or  two-versed  stanzas.  That 
many  of  the  Psalms,  and  even  the  speeches  of  Job, 
and  the  bulk  of  the  love-songs  in  Canticles,  fall  easily 
into  such  a  scheme  is  obvious.  But  one  cannot 
impose  it  on  battle-songs,  and  national  odes  like  the 
Blessings  of  the  patriarchs  or  the  Song  of  Moses 
(Deut.  xxxii.),  without  doing  grave  violence  to  the 
text.  And  the  refrains  and  selahs  show  that  in  the 
Psalms  also  the  stanzas  were  by  no  means  of  the 
uniform  length  of  two  verses.  Here  again,  there- 
fore, we  must  allow  for  more  freedom  than  rigid 
theory  concedes. 

The  important  place  sustained  by  rhyme  in  Arabic 
poetry  has  naturally  raised  the  question  of  its  exist- 
ence in  Hebrew.  It  seems  abundantly  clear  that 
it  plays  no  regular  or  essential  part.  But  that  the 
Hebrew  poets  were  sensitive  to  the  aesthetic  effects 
of  rhyme  appears  from  various  sporadic  proofs. 
Thus  the  old  Song  of  Lamech,  perhaps  the  earliest 
fragment  of  poetry  in  the  Bible,  has  a  distinct  play 
of  rhyme  in  *  and  im.    Other  traces  of  the  love  of 


2  2  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

rhyme  may  be  observed  in  the  k)lk-poetry  of  the 
Old  Testament,  one  of  the  finest  examples  being 
found  in  the  Philistines'  rough  satire  over  the 
blinded  Samson  (Judg.  xvi.  24),  with  its  constant 
harping  on  the  sound  of  mu.  But  in  the  more 
deliberate  art  of  Lamentations,  Psalms  and  Job  the 
same  effects  are  aimed  at.  We  are,  doubtless, 
still  far  removed  from  the  brilliant  rhyming  triumphs 
of  Arabic  poetry.  In  Hebrew  verse  the  rhymes  are 
but  pleasing  jingles  of  sound,  like  assonance  or 
alliteration,  introduced  as  an  added  decoration  or 
grace,  to  enhance  the  beauty  of  the  poetry.  But 
even  thus  we  may  discern  in  them  the  workings  of 
the  same  artistic  impulse  that  carried  the  genius  of 
the  Arabs  to  such  heights  of  attainment. 


CHAPTER  II 

The   Folk-Poetry   of  Israel 

Among  all  nations  the  earliest  manifestations  of 
the  poetic  instinct  are  found  in  folk-song.  Primi- 
tive people  are  invariably  singers.  At  work  or 
play,  in  the  fields  or  by  the  hearth,  in  the  excite- 
ment of  the  chase  or  the  glow  of  battle,  under  the 
thrilling  joy  of  victory  or  the  hopeless  sorrow  of 
death,  they  git/e  vent  to  their  feelings  in  the  moving 
rhythmical  accents  of  song.  In  its  crude  beginnings 
folk-song  appears  to  have  been  a  communal  concern, 
which  consisted  largely  in  a  repetition  of  simple, 
expressive  sounds,  to  a  wonderfully  exact  rhythmical 
beat.  Out  of  the  primitive  communal  song  was 
evolved,  in  due  course,  the  women's  chorus,  with  its 
responsive  reiteration  of  some  simple  theme,  varied 
by  a  refrain  in  which  the  whole  singing  throng  took 
part.  With  the  gradual  emergence  of  the  individual 
above  the  crowd,  there  came  to  the  birth  those  early 
epics,  ballads,  recitatives  and  odes,  which  often 
show  such  real  beauty  and  deep,  haunting  pathos. 
From  this  stage  of  adolescent  art  there  is  but  a 
step  to  poetic  genius.     The  poet  is  the  thrice-blest 


24  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

favourite  of  heaven,  who  to  purity  of  feeling  and 
range  of  imagination  adds  the  supreme  gift  of 
expression. 

It  might  be  assumed,  then,  that  folk-poetry  was 
part  of  the  natural  inheritance  of  the  Hebrews.  And 
this  is  abundantly  borne  out  by  evidence  scattered 
throughout  the  Old  Testament.  For,  though  the 
Book  is  pre-eminently  a  religious  Anthology,  religion 
is  by  no  means  at  variance  with  the  simple 
joys  of  human  life.  Thus  it  has  preserved  for  us, 
not  merely  allusions  to  Israel's  love  of  popular 
poetry,  but  not  a  few  precious  fragments,  saved 
from  the  general  wreckage  of  secular  hterature, 
which  show  that  the  folk-poetry  of  Israel  covered 
as  extensive  a  field  as  that  of  other  nations. 

Of  songs  of  labour,  those  relating  to  the  culture 
of  the  vine  fill  the  largest  place.  The  happy 
choruses  of  the  vine-dressers  are  distinctly  recalled 
in  Isaiah's  Song  of  the  Vineyard  (ch.  v.),  which  no 
doubt  takes  its  form  from  these.  So  also  in  Isa. 
xvi.  10  the  stern  shout  of  battle  is  pictured  as  break- 
ing in  upon  the  joyous  singing  of  the  labourers  in 
the  vineyard  and  the  wine-press,  making  the  vin- 
tage '  shout '  to  cease.  In  Jer.  xxv.  30  the  trium- 
phal *  shout  *  with  which  Jahweh  descends  on 
the  inhabitants  of  the  earth  is  actually  hkened  to 
the  hilarious  'shouting'  of  those  who  tread  the 
grapes ;    while    in  Jer.  xlviii.   33    this  '  shouting ' 


The  Folk-Poetry  of  Israel      2  5 

passes  for  ever  from  Moab  before  the  fury  of 
Jahweh's  wrath.*  It  is  most  probable  that  the 
fragment — ■ 

Destroy  it  not; 

For  a  blessing  is  in  it, 

associated  with  the  finding  of  the  new  wine  in  the 
cluster  (Isa.  Ixv.  8),  is  an  actual  snatch  from  some 
old  vintage  song.  And  the  tune  of  this,  or  anotlier 
nearly-related  folk-song,  would  seem  to  be  indicated 
in  the  familiar  head-line,  'al-fashheth, '  Destroy  not  " 
(Pss.  Ivii.  I ;  Iviii.  i,  etc.).  In  the  passage  already 
cited,  Isa.  xvi.  lo,  the  '  joy  of  the  fruitful  field  '  is 
coupled  with  that  of  the  vine-dressers,  while  in  the 
great  Messianic  vision  of  Isa.  ix.  3  the  exultant  joy 
of  the  re-born  nation  is  compared  with  '  the  joy  of 
harvest,'  equally  with  the  more  tumultuous  joy  'of 
those  that  share  the  spoil.'  The  prophet  has 
here  before  his  imagination  the  glad  shouts  and 
songs  with  which  the  reapers  celebrated  the  joy  of 
harvest-home.  In  the  Song  of  Deborah  (Judg. 
v.  II,  15)  we  have  almost  certain  references  to  the 
merry  shepherd-songs  that  were  heard  '  beside  the 
troughs,'  accompanied  by  sweet  '  flutings  for  flocks. 
A  charming  little  well-song,  inspired  by  the  finding 


*  In  these  passages  the    technical  term    for  the  'shout'  is 

"TH  {hlddA),  doubtless    the    catdhword    of    the    old     vintage 
choruses. 


2  6  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

or  digging  of  a  well  in  the  desert,  has  been  preserved 
in  Num.  xxi.  lyi.,^ 

spring  up,  well  ; 

Sing  in  response  to  it — 
Well  that  the  princes  digged, 

That  the  rulers  of  the  people  delved. 
With  their  sceptres  and  their  staves, 

A  gift  from  the  desert  ;  ' 

while  songs  more  directly  bearing  on  the  beauties 
of  Nature  are  suggested  by  those  headings  of  the 

*  This  song  has  been  compared  with  the  well-songs  which 
Arab  women  still  sing  as  they  draw  the  water  in  their  buckets 
(cf.  Dalman's  collection  in  his  Paldstinischer  Diwan,  pp.  45 ff.)- 
But  Budde  is  more  probably  correct  in  finding  here  the  festal 
celebration  of  the  opening  of  a  well  in  the  desert.  Thus  Nilus 
speaks  of  the  nomadic  Arabs  of  his  day  dancing  round  a  new- 
found well,  and  singing  songs  to  it,  as  though  it  were  a  living 
being.  From  Musil's  monumental  Kusejr  Antra  (1907)  T.  H. 
Weir  quotes  a  well- song  of  the  present  day  almost  identical  with 
that  of  our  text : — 

Spring  up,  O  well. 

Flow  copiously. 

Drink  and  disdain  not. 

With  a  staff  have  we  dug  it. 
In  both  cases  the  digging  by  the  (princes'  )  staff  is  a  symbolical 
action,  like  the  laying  of  foundation-stones  or  planting  of  mem- 
orial trees  by  distinguished  men  of  the  present.  '  In  what 
appears  to  be  an  absolutely  waterless  desert,  water  may  be  found 
by  digging  amongst  the  stones  of  the  dry  torrent  bed.  The 
stones  are  removed  by  the  hand,  though  the  process  is  described 
as  digging.  The  chiefs  rarely  take  part  in  the  work,  but  the 
"well,"  when  formed,  is  always  said  to  have  been  dug  by  Sheikh 
So-and-so'  (T.  H.  Weir,  Expos.,  July,  1910,  p.  81). 

*  At  the  close  of  the  song  I  have  followed  Budde  in  reading 
nsriO  ■|2"I?3p, /rom  the  desert  a  gift,  instead  of  the  meaningless 
n^np  ISlisp-l,  and  from  the  wilderness  to  Mattanah. 


The  Folk- Poetry  of  Israel      27 

Psalter  which  prescribe  Psalms  to  be  sung  ' al-' ayyeleth 
hashshahar, '  to  the  tune  of  The  Hind  of  the  Morning  ' 
(Ps.  xxii.  i),*  'al-shoshannim,  '  to  the  tune  of  The 
Lilies  '  (Pss.  xlv.  i  ;  Ix.  i,  etc.),*  and  'al-yonath 
'elim  r'hokim, '  to  the  tune  of  The  Dove  of  the  Distant 
Terebinths  '   (Ps.  Ivi.   i).' 

But  far  more  numerous  than  either  of  these  classes 
are  the  songs  of  battle  and  victory.  Israel  sprang 
from  a  race  that  took  the  keenest  delight  in  warfare. 
Thus  the  sword-song  of  the  proud  Bedouin  chieftain 
Lamech  (Gen.  iv.  23f.)  literally  reeks  of  blood  and 
vengeance.  And  long  after  Israel  had  passed  be- 
3^ond  the  Bedouin  stage  of  civilization,  the  fierce 
joy  of  battle  fired  the  hearts  of  the  people,  and 
inspired  their  most  stirring  strains.  To  a  wild 
war-chant  Deborah  roused  the  hosts  of  Jahweh's 
people  against  Sisera  (Judg.  v.  12).  In  like  manner, 
the  defiant  notes  of  Sheba,  when  he  moved  Israel 


»  The  '  hind  of  the  morning '  is  doubtless  a  poetical  descrip- 
tion of  the  dawn.  In  the  same  way,  the  Arabic  poet  Imru'l- 
Kais  addresses  Night  as  a  '  slow  camel  dragging  his  hind-feet 
haltingly.' 

2  This  would  be  a  song  in  celebration  of  the  beauty  of  the 
•lilies  of  the  field,'  the  brilliantly  coloured  poppies  or  anemones 
which  stai  shed  such  a  glory  over  the  landscape  of  Palestine. 

•  With  the  old  Dove-song  we  may  compare  the  Swallow-song 
with  which  the  Greek  country-folk  celebrated  the  return  of  spring. 
The  popular  Hebrew  mind  was  evidently  just  as  sensitive  as  the 
Greek  to  the  charms  of  Nature  and  the  real  human  interest  of  the 
wild  life  of  the  woods  and  ftelds. 


2  8  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

to  cast  off  its  allegiance  to  David,  are  cast  in  the 
mould  of  a  simple  battle-song  : — 

No  portion  have  we  in  David, 
Nor  lot  in  the  son  of  Jesse  : 
Each  man  to  his  tent,  0  Israel  (2  Sam.  xx.  i). 

Victory  was  hailed  with  songs  of  triumph.  The 
victors  themselves  would  break  into  shouts  of  ecstatic 
rejoicing  ;  ^  while  the  women  went  forth  to  meet 
them  in  singing,  dancing  bands.  Thus  Miriam  and 
her  sisters  in  Israel  celebrated  the  destruction  of 
the  Egyptians  with  choruses  of  responsive  song 
(Exod.  XV.  21)  2  : — 

Sing  to  the  Lord,   for  great  hath  He  shown  Himself  ; 
The  horse  and  his  rider  He  hath  hurled  in  the  sea. 

Of  Jephthah's  daughter,  too,  we  read  that  she  '  came 
to  meet  him  with  timbrels  and  dancing  choruses,' 
to  rejoice  with  him  in  his  victory  over  Ammon 
(Judg.  xi.  34),  The  glorious  triumphs  of  David 
were  likewise  hailed  by  women's  voices  in  the  festive 
couplet  that  so  roused  the  wrath  of  Saul : — 

1  The  catch-note  of  these  triumphal  choruses  would  seem  to 
have  been  hal  (with  a  prolonged  trill),  verbalized  in  the  Heb. 
hallel  (as  in  hallelujah,  '  praise  ye  Jahweh  ')  and  Ar.  halhal.  The 
modern  Arabs  still  trill  the  syllable  li  or  lu  in  songs  of  victory, 
as  well  as  in  their  marriage  festivities  (cf.  Littmann,  Neuarab- 
ische  Volkspoesie,  pp.  87f.). 

•  njy,  answer,  hence  sing  in  response.  It  is  unfortunate  that 
the  R.V.  here  adheres  to  the  Uteral  rendering  answered,  vflcncla.  con- 
veys so  little  of  the  real  significance  to  the  English  reader.  In 
the  parallel  passage,  i  Sam.  xviii.  7,  it  translates  more  adequately 
sang  one  to  another. 


The  Folk-Poetry  of  Israel      29 

Saul  hath  slain  his  thousands  ; 

But  David  his  ten  thousands  (i  Sam.  xviii.  6f.). 

Out  of  these  simple  responses,  at  the  touch  of  poetic 
inspiration,  there  rose  more  elevated  strains.  Thus 
the  joyous  verse  of  Miriam  and  her  women-folk 
has  provided  a  theme  for  the  great '  Song  of  Moses,'  ^ 
with  its  splendour  of  description,  and  swift,  dramatic 
movement  (Exod.  xv.  iff.)  : — 

I  will  sing  to  the  Lord,  for  great  hath  He  shown  Himself  ; 
The  horse  and  his  rider  He  hath  hurled  in  the  sea. 

My  strength  and  my  song  is  Jahweh  ; 

And  He  is  become  my  salvation. 
This  is  my  God,  and  I'll  praise  Him — 

The  God  of  my  father,  I'll  laud  Him. 
Jahweh,  the  Lord  of  battles, 

Jahweh's  His  name. 
The  chariots  of  Pharaoh  He  hath  flung  in  the  sea  ; 

The  flower  of  his  warriors  are  sunk  in  the  Sedge.* 

1  The  later  date  of  the  '  Song  of  Moses  '  is  suggested,  not 
merely  by  its  absence  from  the  earliest  sources,  J  and  E,  and  the 
fine  preservation  of  the  text,  as  compared  with  the  Song  of 
Deborah,  but  likewise  by  its  following  the  history  of  Jahweh's 
goodness  to  the  establishment  of  His  people  on  '  the  mount  of 
His  heritage,' and  by  the  developed  art  and  language  of  the  piece. 
A  few  commentators  have  brought  it  as  late  as  the  post-exilic  age, 
on  the  assumed  ground  that  v.  8  depends  on  the  priestly  account 
of  the  massing  of  the  waters  as  a  wall  on  either  hand.  But  the 
description  here  seems  rather  hkea  bold  poetic  figure,  the  literal- 
izing  of  which  led  to  P's  exaggerated  account.  The  triumphant 
joy  in  Jahweh's  guidance,  and  the  feeling  of  pride  in  His  '  heri- 
tage '  of  Zion,  would  accord  better,  we  believe,  with  a  date  in  the 
hey-day  of  the  monarchy. 

•  The  scene  of  the  great  deliverance  is  Pi-1D"D1,  '  the  Sea  of 
Sedge,'  the  shallow  northern  extremity  of  the  Gulf  of  Suez. 


3  o  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

The  oceans  cover  them  : 

They  went  down  in  the  depths  like  a  stone. 

Thy  right  hand,  O  Lord,  is  glorious  in  power  ; 

Thy  right  hand,  O  Lord,  doth  shatter  the  foemen. 
By  the  might  of  Thine  excellence  Thou  dost  pluck  down  th"  uprisers  ; 

Thou  dost  send  for 'h  Thy  wrath — it  consumes  them  as  stubble. 
By  the  blast  of  Thy  nostrils  the  waters  were  massed  ; 

The  floods  stood  up  like  a  wall  : 

The  abysses  congealed  in  the  heart  of  the  sea. 
Said  the  foe  :    '  I'll  pursue,  I'll  catch  up, 

I'll  apportion  the  spoil,  I'll  sate  my  soul  on  them  ; 

My  sword  I'll  make  bare,  my  hand  will  destroy  them.' 
Thou  didst  blow  with  Thy  wind  ;  the  sea  did  cover  them  : 

They  sank  like  a  plummet  in  waters  o' er whelming. 

Who  is  like  Thee  'mong  the  gods,  O  Jahweh  ? 

Who  is  like  Thee,  glorious  in  holiness. 
Fearful  in  praises,  wondrous  in  deed  ? 

Thou  didst  stretch  forth  Thy  hand  :  the  earth  did  swallow  them. 
In  Thy  love  Thou  leddest  the  folk  Thou  redeemedst  ; 

With  Thy  strong  hand  didst  guide  them  to  the  place  of  Thy  holiness. 

The  peoples  did  hear  it,  and  tremble  ; 

Pangs  laid  hold  of  the  dwellers  in  Palestine. 
All  dismayed  were  the  chieftains  of  Edom  ; 

The  princes  of  Moab — trembling  hath  fallen  on  them  : 

Melted  are  all  the  dwellers  in  Canaan. 
Falleth  upon  them  terror  and  trembling  ; 

By  the  might  of  Thine  arm  they  are  still  as  a  stone, 
Till  Thy  people  pass  over,  O  Lord, 

Pass  over  the  folk  Thou  hast  gotten. 
Thou  dost  bring  them,  and  plant  them  on  the  mount  of  Thy  heri- 
tage. 

On  the  place  Thou  didst  make  for  Thy  dwelling,  0  Jahiveh— 
The  Holy  Place,  Lord,  which  Thy  hands  did  establish. 

Jahweh  shall  reign  for  ever  and  ever. 

On  a  yet  higher  plane  of  poetic  inspiration  stands 


The  Folk-Poetry  of  Israel      3  i 

the  triumphal  hymn  of  Deborah  (Judg.  v.)/  a  song 
that  for  force  and  fire  is  worthy  to  be  placed  along- 
side the  noblest  battle-odes  in  any  language.  Here 
every  phase  of  the  glorious  battle  for  freedom,  the 
ebb  and  flow  in  the  surging  tide  of  victory,  the  bril- 
liant deeds  of  heroism  displayed  '  on  the  heights  of  the 
field,'  and  the  undying  shame  of  those  who  refused 
to  come  '  to  the  help  of  Jahweh  among  the  heroes,' 
are  painted  in  living,  throbbing,  heart-stirring 
words.    The  closing  scene,  too,  with  its  vivid  por- 

1  That  the  '  Song  of  Deborah '  is  practically  contemporan- 
eous with  the  battle  of  Kishon,  and  was  composed  by  one  who 
played  a  personal  part  in  the  great  deliverance  of  Israel,  is  doubted 
by  no  serious  critic.  The  only  question  raised  is  as  to  the  actual 
authorship.  From  the  reference  to  Deborah  in  the  third  person 
(very  probably  in  v.  7,  and  certainly  in  v.  12),  it  is  widely 
assumed  that  the  heroine  herself  cannot  have  been  the  author. 
But  poets,  both  ancient  and  modern,  have  not  unfrequently 
affected  such  an  impersonal  mode  of  address.  And  there  is  no 
one  of  the  age  with  whom  the  Song  can  be  more  fittingly  associ- 
ated than  the  heroic  figure  to  whose  zeal  for  God  and  people  the 
victory  was  mainly  due.  None  felt  so  deeply  the  thrill  of  the 
battle.  None  rejoiced  more  fervently  in  the  triumph  of  '  Jah- 
weh's  people.'  And  none  appears  so  richly  endowed  with  the 
'  inspiration  '  which  is  the  gift  of  poet  and  prophet  alike.  In 
early  times,  too,  songs  of  victory  were  the  peculiar  concern  of  the 
women  of  the  tribe  or  people.  And  in  this  Song  the  closing  scene, 
at  least,  with  its  intimate  insight  into  the  thoughts  and  fears  of 
the  feminine  heart,  strongly  suggests  the  authorship  of  a  woman. 
The  text  has  unfortunately  suffered  with  unusual  severity  from 
the  lapse  of  time.  In  certain  parts,  chiefly  about  the  middle  of 
the  poem,  it  is  almost  unintelligible.  Textual  scholarship  has, 
however,  done  much  to  restore  a  plausible  sense.  The  following 
translation  is  based  on  what  appear  the  most  reasonable  emenda- 
tions (cf.  Kittel,  Biblia  Hebraica). 


3  2  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

traiture  of  character,  and  its  sharp  contrasts  of  fear, 
dismay,  and  hope,  is  one  of  real  dramatic  power, 
tragical  in  its  suggestion  of  impending  evil,  suddenly 
broken  off  by  ominous  silence. 

Hear,  O  kings. 

Give  ear,  ye  princes  I 
I  to  Jahweh — even  I  will  sing, 

I  will  sing  praises  to  Jahweh,  the  God  of  Israeli 

Lord,  when  Thou  wentest  from  Seir, 

When  Thou  marchedst  from  the  plateau  of  Edom, 

Earth  trembled,  even  the  heavens  were  shaken. 
The  clouds  also  dropped  water; 

Rent  were  the  hills  before  Jahweh, 
Before  Jahweh,  the  God  of  Israel. 

In  the  days  of  Shamgar,  the  high  roads  were  deserted. 

And  the  way-far ers  went  by  winding  paths. 
Still  lay  the  villages  in  Israel, 

And  hushed  was  the  work  of  the  country-folk,^ 
Ceased  sacrifice  to  God, 

Bread  failed  in  the  gates. 
No  shield  was  seen,  or  spear, 

'Mong  the  forty  thousands  in  Israel  ; 
Until  Deborah  arose, ^ 

Arose  a  mother  in  Israel, 


1  This  verse  has  all  the  appearance  of  an  opening  address.  I 
have,  therefore,  omitted  the  otherwise  disputed  i>.  2  as  a 
corrupt  variant  to  v.  g, 

*  The  introduction  of  Deborah's  name  in  ?;.  7  seems  prema- 
ture. In  the  translation  the  verse  has  been  reserved  for  the  close 
of  the  picture  of  Israel's  sorrow,  while  a  new  stichos  has  been 
inserted  to  complete  the  parallelism. 

*  For  ^riJpi^,  /  arose,  LXX  has  the  third  person,  which  is  more 
in  harmony  with  the  rest  of  the  Song. 


The  Folk-Poetry  of  Israel      3  3 

My  heart  to  the  rulers  of  Israel, 

The  people's  willing  leaders  I  * 
Ye  that  ride  on  ruddy  asses, 

And  couch  on  costly  cushions  ; 
Ye  that  walk  along  the  highways. 

Your  praises  give  to  Jahweh  ! 
And  hark  !  round  the  troughs  the  sound  of  the  joy-makers  ! 

There  sing  they  Jahweh's  righteous  acts, 

Righteous  acts  to  His  country-folk  in  Israel. 

Rouse,  rouse,  Debdrdh  ! 

Rouse,  rouse,  send  forth  the  battle-song  t 
Up  with  thee,  Barak  ! 

Lead  forth  thy  captive  train,  thou  son  of  Abinoam  !  * 

Then  trooped  down  Israel  in  its  might, 

Down  to  him  Jahweh's  people — a  .  and  of  heroes. 
From  Ephraim  marched  men  to  the  plain. 

His  brother  Benjamin  in  his  ranks :^ 
From  Machir  marshals  of  the  field. 

From  Zebulon  wielders  of  the  baton. 
Men  of  Issachar  marched  with  Debdrdh, 

And  men  of  Naphfali  with  Barak  ; 

Through  the  plain  they  poured*  in  his  steps. 


1  I  have  removed  the  disputed  words  Hin^  -IS  13  from  the  close 
of  V.  9  to  the  corresponding  place  in  v.  lo,  treating  ■in^K'  as 
variant  to  the -130^  of  v.  ii,  representing  perhaps   an   original 

*  The  LXX  has  the  interesting,  and  possibly  original,  variant : 

Rouse,  rouse,  Deborah  ! 

Rouse  the  myriads  of  thy  people  ! 
up  with  thee,  Barak  !  put  on  thy  strength  I 
Lead  captive  thy  captors,  thou  son  of  Abinoam  I 
»  Instead  of  ^nnX ,  after  thee,  LXX  reads  '  thy  brother.'     The 
third  sing,  would,  however,  be  more  in  harmony  with  the  context. 

*  The  word  n?^,  in  the  sense  of  '  was  poured  out,'  may  be 
allowed  to  remain,  if  only  we  read  the  plur.  •1^Vt^*. 


34  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

Among  the  clansmen  of  Reuben 

Were  deep  searchings  of  heart}- 
Then  why  didst  thou  stay  by  the  sheepfolds. 

To  list  to  the  flutings  for  flocks  ? 
Cilead  abode  beyond  Jordan, 

And  Dan  sat  still  by  the  ships, 
Asher  stayed  on  the  sea-shore, 

Quietly  abode  by  his  havens. 
But  Zebulon — he  flung  his  soul  to  the  death, 

With  Naphtali,  'long  the  heights  of  the  field. 

The  kings  came  and  fought  ; 

Then  fought  kings  of  Canaan, 
At  Taanach,  by  the  waters  of  Megiddo  : 

But  spoil  of  silver  they  took  not ! 
From  heaven  fought  the  stars. 

From  their  courses  they  fought  against  Sisera, 
Then  pounded  the  hoofs  of  the  horses, 

With  the  gallop,  the  gallop  of  strong  ones  ;* 
And  the  river  of  Kishon  swept  them  away. 

The  on-rushing  river  of  Kishon. 

Curse  ye  Meroz,  saith  Jahweh  ; 

With  curses  curse  its  inhabitants. 
For  they  came  not  to  Jahweh' s  help. 

To  Jahweh's  help  'mong  the  heroes. 
But  blessed  above  women  be  Jael, 

A  bove  women  that  dwell  in  the  tent  I 
Water  he  asked,  and  milk  she  gave  him  : 

Buttermilk  brought  in  a  lordly  bowl. 
Her  hand  she  put  to  the  peg, 

Her  right  hand  to  workman's  hammer ; 
Down  smote  she  on  Sisera,  struck  at  his  head. 

Smashed  on  him,  crashed  through  his  temple. 

1   F.  i6&  is,  doubtless,  but  an  (improved)  version  of  i;.  15. 

•  The  gallop  of  the  strong  ones  is  unduly  protracted  in  the 
Mass.  text,  I  have  followed  Budde  in  reading  the  verse  before 
21.  The  closing  words  of  that  verse  are  probably  a  mere  liturgi- 
cal addition. 


The  Folk-Poetry  of  Israel      3  5 

At  her  feet  he  swayed,  and  fell  ; 

Where  he  swayed,  he  fell  down  dead. 

Through  the  window  looks  and  peers 

Through  the  lattice  the  mother  of  Sisera  : 
'  Why  stays  his  carriage  its  coming  ; 

Why  tarry  the  wheels  o  j  his  chariots  ? ' 
Of  her  ladies  the  wisest  answers. 

She  herself  gives  back  reply  : 
'  Do  they  not  find  and  divide  the  spoil  ? 

A  wench  or  two  for  each  warrior ; 
A  spoil  of  dyed  stuff  for  Sisera, 

For  his  neck  a  meed  of  embroidery  ?  '  * 

The  scene  of  the  stars  from  their  courses  in  heaven 
joining  in  the  fight  with  Sisera  is  a  fine  illustration 
of  the  boldness  of  Hebrew  imagination.  But  an 
even  more  striking  example  is  found  in  the  battle- 
song  of  the  great  '  day  of  Gibeon  '  (Josh.  x.  I2f.), 
where  Joshua  commands  the  very  sun  and  moon  to 
stay  their  flight,  until  Israel  shall  wreak  its  ven- 
geance on  the  enemy  : — 

Sun  !  stand  thou  still  upon  Gibeon, 
And  thou  moon!  in  the  vale  of  Ajalon. 

So  the  sun  stood  still,  and  the  moon  rested  there, 
Till  the  folk  had  their  lust  on  their  foes. 

As  among  other  nations,  songs  of  victory  in  Israel 
pass  occasionally  into  satire.  A  good  example 
is  offered  in  the  mdshdl  over  Moab  (Num.  xxi. 
27ff.)  2  :_ 

^  At  the  close  of  the  Ode  the  text  is  evidently  overladen.  Of 
the  various  possibilities  I  have  adopted  hxn*^  QlTl^i?"!  HDi^l 
one  piece,  two  pieces,  of  embroidery  for  his  neck,  as  most  in 
harmony  with  the  context  (cf.  LXX). 

'  The  song  is  introduced  in  Numbers  as  a  satire  of  Sihon  and 
the  Amorites  over  conquered  Moab.       But  the  '  city  of  Sihoo ' 


3  6  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

Go  ye  to  Heshbon ; 

Let  the  city  of  Sihon  be  built  and  restored  I 
For  fire  went  forth  from  Heshbon, 

A  flame  from  the  city  of  Sihon  ; 
It  devoured  the  cities  of  Moab, 

And  consumed  the  heights  of  the  Arnon. 
Woe  to  thee,  Moab  ! 

Undone  art  thou,  people  of  Chemosh  I 
His  sons  hath  he  given  to  be  fugitives. 

And  his  daughters  captives  for  kings. ^ 
We  smote  them  {?)  from  Heshbon  to  Dibon  ; 

We  wasted  their  land  (?)  to  Medeba.' 

The  curious  little  fragment  in  the  earlier  part  of 
the  chapter,  remarkable  chiefly  for  its  list  of  place- 
names,  might  almost  be  regarded  as  the  original 

itself  falls  in  the  general  ruin.  The  satire  is  almost  certainly, 
therefore,  that  of  the  triumphant  Israelites.  It  can  thus  hardly 
be  as  ancient  as  the  Conquest  of  Palestine.  The  flame  of  devas- 
tation here  spreads  not  northward,  as  on  Israel's  march  to  Pales- 
tine, but  from  Heshbon  south  to  the  water-courses  of  the  Arnon. 
The  satire  is  consequently  related  by  Stade  and  Baentsch  to  the 
conquest  of  Moab  by  Omri.  But  the  place  it  occupies  in  a  col- 
lection of  '  minstrels'  songs,'  and  the  highly  corrupt  state  of 
the  text,  would  argue  for  a  considerably  earlier  date.  We  in- 
cline to  connect  it  with  David's  conquests  (cf.  2  Sam.  viii.  2),  in 
which  the  parallel  fragment  from  the  '  Book  of  the  Wars  of 
Jahweh '  (Num.  xxi.  i4f.)  would  also  find  a  suitable  setting. 
The  description  of  Heshbon  as  the  '  city  of  Sihon  '  is  no  real 
objection  to  this  view.  We  have  only  to  assume  that  the  name 
of  Sihon  continued  to  be  associated  with  his  former  capital  even 
after  it  had  passed  into  the  power  of  Moab. 

*  On  the  explanation  given  above,  ]"in'P  ^"}bX  must  be  a  later 
interpolation.     We  should  simply  read  ^/J??. 

*  The  reading  is  corrupt,  perhaps  beyond  hope  of  restoration. 
The  translation  given  above  is  purely  conjectural.  The  verse 
does,  however,  appear  to  describe  the  wide  extent  of  the  devasta- 
tion of  Moab. 


The  Folk- Poetry  of  Israel      37 

sequel  to  the  satire  on  Moab,  were  it  not  composed 
in  a  different  metre,  and  drawn  from  a  different 
source  (cf.  Num.  xxi.  I4f.)-  It  appears  to  describe 
the  pursuit  of  Moab,  or  the  devastation  of  the 
country, 

To  Waheb  in  Suphah  {?) 
And  the  valleys  of  Avnon, 

Even  the  cliffs  of  the  valleys 
That  slope  down  to  'Ar, 
And  lean  on  the  border  of  Moab. 

A  coarser  species  of  satire  appears  in  Samson's 
rough  jest-song  (Judg.  xv.  i6),  with  its  grim  play 
on  the  word  hdmor  : — 

With  the  jawbone  of  an  ass  have  I  massed  a  mass  ; 
With  the  jawbone  of  an  ass  have  I  slain  a  thousand. 

But  the  Philistines  also  could  retaliate  on  their  fallen 
foe  in  the  rude  rhymes  already  referred  to  (Judg. 
xvi.  24)  : — 

Our  god  hath  given  to    ur  hands  our  foe, 

That  wasted  our  land,  and  made  many  our  slain. 

A  far  nobler  development  of  triumphal  odes  is 
found  in  songs  of  national  hope  and  aspiration. 
The  earliest  of  these,  the  so-called  *  Blessing  of 
Noah  '  (Gen.  ix.  25ff.),  runs  back  perhaps  to  the 
Tel  el-Amarna  period  (c.  1400  B.C.),  and  shows  the 
racial  pride  of  the  Hebrews  already  asserting  itself 
against  the  degraded  Canaanites  : — 

Cursed  be  Canaan ! 

Slave  of  slaves  let  him  be  to  his  brethren  I 


3  8  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

Jahweh  bless  Shem's  tents  ; 

And  let  Canaan  be  his  slave  I 
God  enlarge  Japheth  I 
His  dwelling  be  Shem's  tents  ; 

And  let  Canaan  be  his  slave! 

But  Israel  soon  became  conscious  of  its  unique  posi- 
tion and  destiny  even  within  the  narrower  circle  of 
the  Hebrew  peoples.  This  dawning  self -conscious- 
ness of  the  chosen  race  comes  to  its  clearest  expres- 
sion through  the  age-long  rivalry  with  Edom,  the 
most  nearly  related  of  the  three.  In  the  old  birth- 
song  (Gen.  XXV.  23)/  the  ultimate  supremacy  of 
the  younger  '  brother  '  is  already  presaged  : — 

Two  nations  are  in  thy  womb  ; 

Two  peoples  part  from  thy  bowels. 
People  shall  crush  down  people  ; 

The  elder  shall  serve  the  younger. 

A  richer  poetic  cast  is  given  to  Israel's  hope  in 
Isaac's  Blessing  (Gen.  xxvii.  2y^.).^  But  the  most 
glowing  picture  of  its  future  prosperity  is  drawn  in 
the  four  oracles  of  Balaam,  the  son  of  Beor  (Num. 
xxiii.,  xxiv.)  ^ : — 

1  The  birth-3ong  comes  from  the  Jabwistic  narrative,  and 
thus  represents  the  oldest  tradition  of  Israel. 

*  The  '  Blessing  of  Isaac  '  is  a  blend  of  J  and  E,  and  conse- 
quently shows  the  original  tradition  maturing  in  both  the  king- 
doms of  Israel, 

3  The  proud  consciousness  of  national  prosperity  and  un- 
dimmed  hope  which  pervades  these  poems,  and  the  expHcit  allu- 
sion to  the  king  in  xxiv.  7  and  17,  point  to  a  date  about  the  very 
dawn  of  the  monarchy.     The  recent  attempt  of  von  Gall  to  bring 


The  Folk-Poetry  of  Israel      39 

Balak  brought  me  from  Edom,^ 

Moab's  king  from  the  hills  of  the  East, 
Come,  said  he,  curse  me  Jacob  ; 

Come,  prithee,  damn  me  Israel ! 
How  can  I  curse  whom  God  hath  not  cursed  ? 

Or  how  can  I  damn  whom,  the  Lord  hath  not  damned  ? 
From  the  top  of  the  rocks  I  see  him, 

From  the  crest  of  the  hills  I  behold  him — 
A  people  that  dwelleth  apart. 

Nor  is  counled  as  one  of  the  nations. 

To  this  favourite  of  Heaven  all  goodness  is  promised 
(xxiv.  5ff.)  : — 

How  lovely  thy  tents,  O  Jacob, 

Thy  dwellings,  O  Israel ! 
As  valleys  that  stretch  afar,^ 

A  s  gardens  watered  by  rivers  ; 
As  oaks  that  Jahweh  hath  planted. 

As  cedars  beside  the  waters. 
Waters  shall  flow  from  his  buckets. 

And  his  seed  dwell  by  many  waters.^ 


the  whole  four  oracles  down  to  the  post-exilic  age  seems  to  the 
present  writer  to  break  down  on  this  rock.  At  most,  the  Appen- 
dices (xxiv.  2ofi.),  with  their  very  different  outlook,  arrangement, 
and  style,  may  be  assigned  to  the  later  period.  Cf.  G.  B.  Gray, 
Numbers,  pp.  3i3ff. 

^  The  D'lX  of  the  Mass.  text  is  evidently  a  mere  penman's  slip 

for  nnx. 

v; 

•  The  stichos  is  metrically  incomplete.  We  might,  with  Hol- 
zinger  etc.,  read  ?N  ntpj,  as  valleys  that  God  hath  spread  out,  which 
would  bring  it  into  fine  harmony  with  the  first  stichos  of  the  follow- 
ing verse. 

^  The  reading  here  is  very  uncertain.     Suggestions  from  LXX 
and  elsewhere  give  us  the  following  couplet : — 
Peoples  shall  tremble  at  his  might  ; 

And  his  arm  shall  be  on  many  nations. 


40  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

His  king  shall  be  mightier  than  Agag} 
And  his  kingdom  exalted  on  high. 

The  series  concludes  with  a  dazzHng  vision  of  the 
king  rising  in  triumph  over  all  his  enemies  (xxiv. 
17):- 

I  see  him,  but  not  now  ; 

I  behold  him,  but  not  nigh. 
There  gleameth  a  star  from  Jacob, 

Ariseth  a  ruler  from  Israel. 
He  shall  smite  through  the  temples  of  Moab, 

The  crown  of  all  children  of  Sheth.* 

But  the  individual  tribes  not  only  shared  in  the 
glorious  aspirations  of  the  people.  They  had  like- 
wise their  own  clan-spirit  and  consciousness.  A  fine 
reflection  of  the  character  and  destiny  of  the  separate 
members  of  the  commonwealth  of  Israel,  as  con- 
ceived by  themselves  or  by  one  another,  is  found  in 
the  '  Blessing  of  Jacob  '  (Gen.  xlix.),  which  is  really 
a  complex  of  different  tribal  oracles,  ranging  in  origin 
from  the  rough  period  of  the  Judges  to  the  final 

*  The  allusion  to  Agag,  the  contemporary  of  Samuel  and  Saul, 
is  certainly  surprising,  even  if  the  poems  date  from  the  beginning 
of  the  monarchy.  LXX  has  Gog,  which  may  be  a  mistake  for 
Og,  the  king  of  Bashan,  a  much  happier  comparison  in  an  oracle 
bearing  the  name  of  Balaam. 

*  For  "li^li^l  we  must  certainly  read  Tj^li^l,  as  the  Samaritan 
Version  does.  The  precise  significance  of  TIK'  is  uncertain.  In  Jer. 
xlviii.  45,  where  the  passage  is  quoted,  it  is  supplanted  by  pNB'. 
tumult  or  confusion.  It  is  probably  better,  however,  to  retain 
ntJ',  and  to  regard  it  as  the  name  of  some  unknown  people  or 
district. 


The  Folk-Poetry  of  Israel      41 

establishment  of  the  monarchy.^  The  portraitures 
of  character  are  here  most  happily  drawn  :  for 
example,  that  of  Reuben  the  first-bom,  '  first  in 
dignity  and  power,'  who,  for  his  '  swelling  lust,' 
should  not  be  '  left  the  first  '  {vv.  3f.),  or  of  Simeon 
and  Levi,  that  '  well-matched  pair  of  brothers,' 
who  should  be  divided  among  their  brethren  for 
their  'cursed  anger'  [vv.  5ff.),  that  of  Issachar 
the  '  big-boned  ass,  crouching  beneath  the  panniers,' 
who  found  a  pleasant  place  to  rest  in,  and  so  '  bowed 
his  shoulder  to  the  yoke,  and  became  a  slaveling ' 
[vv.  I4f.),  or  of  little  Dan,  the  '  fiery  snake,'  who 
could  at  least '  bite  the  horse's  heels,'  and  thus  '  bring 
down  the  rider  backward  '  {v.  17).  But  the  crown- 
ing glory  is  reserved  for  Judah,  the  lion  tribe,  who 
embodies  in  himself  the  hope  of  all  the  brethren  : — 

The  sceptre  departs  not  from  Judah, 

Nor  the  staff  from  between  his  feet. 
Till  He  come  whose  right  is  to  reign} 

Whose  is  the  homage  of  nations  {v.  id). 

A  collection  of  similar  oracles  of  a  more  developed 
type,  betraying  the  consciousness  of  the  tribes  in 
the  North,  at  some  period  subsequent  to  the  Disrup- 

*  Cf.Gunkel*,  Genesis,  pp.  2495.  ;    Skinner,  Genesis,  pp,  siofif. 

•  By  far  the  most  probable  solution  of  the  problem  of  rO''^ 
seems  to  be  found  in  the  reading  of  practically  all  the  versions, 
supported  by  the  allusion  in  Ezek.  xxi.  32,  viz.  l'?^,  he  to  whom 
it  is.  We  should  have  here,  then,  an  early  expression  of  the 
Messianic  hope  of  Israel.  Cf.  Gunkel,  op.  cit.,  p.  436,  where  the 
oracle  is  regarded  as  a  clear  evidence  of  'pre-prophetic  eschatology. 


42  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

tion  of  the  kingdom,  meets  us  in  the  '  Blessing  of 
Moses '  (Deut.  xxxiii.) .  Here  the  note  is  distinctively 
religious.  The  centre  of  national  interest,  too,  has 
very  considerably  changed.  Reuben  has  dwindled 
to  but  a  '  few.'  Simeon  has  altogether  vanished 
from  the  roll.  On  the  other  hand,  Levi  has  attained 
his  high  priestly  dignity,  while  Judah  is  isolated 
and  depressed.  The  only  blessing  sought  for  him  is 
that  Jahweh  may  bring  him  back  to  his  people  {v. 
7).  His  once  royal  rank  is  now  upheld  by  Joseph, 
or  Ephraim,  on  whom  all  the  best  blessings  are 
showered  {vv.  isff.).  And  the  song  closes  with  an 
outburst  of  praise  to  Jahweh,  the  God  of  Jeshurun 
(Israel),  '  that  rides  through  the  heavens  to  his  help,' 
and  of  rejoicing  for  Israel,  who  under  His  protecting 
wing  '  dwelleth  in  safety,'  in  the  good  land  He  has 
given  them,  '  a  land  of  corn  and  wine,'  from  w^hich 
they  shall  go  forth  in  strength  to  reduce  the  nations, 
and  to  *  trample  down  their  high  places  '  {vv.  26ff.). 

But  the  sweeter  joys  of  life  found  also  their  voice 
in  song.  A  large  part  of  other  national  anthologies 
is  filled  with  lays  of  childhood,  love  and  marriage. 
These  have  unfortunately  vanished  from  the  treas- 
uries of  Israel's  song,  the  only  faint  survivals  being 
found  in  the  naive  wedding- wish  to  whose  strains 
Rebecca  left  for  her  new  home  (Gen.   xxiv.  60)  > 

*  The  Song  of  Hannah  (i  Sam.  ii.  ifi.)  is  really  a  highly-devel- 
oped hymn  to  Jahweh,  in  the  style  of  the  later  Psalms.      The 


The  Folk-Poetry  of  Israel      43 

There  is  much  more  abundant  allusion  to  the  songs 
that  increased  the  gaiety  of  social  life.  For  the 
impulse  to  song  lay  very  near  the  heart  of  the  Heb- 
rews. Under  the  bright  sunshine  of  prosperity* 
men  and  their  children  together  '  lifted  up  their  voice 
to  the  music  of  the  timbrel  and  the  harp  '  (Job  xxi. 
iif.).  The  widow's  heart  '  sang  for  joy  '  when  she 
found  a  friend  (Job  xxix.  13).  The  young  men 
sang  and  played  at  the  gates  (Lam.  v.  I4f.).  The 
happy  hours  of  festal  gatherings  were  passed  in 
song  and  dance,  jest  and  riddle  (Judg.  xiv.  iiff.) 
The  parting  guest  was  sped  on  his  way  '  with  sounds 
of  mirth  and  song  '  (Gen.  xxxi.  27).  In  later  times 
song  was  the  recognized  accompaniment  of  feasts. 
The  court  had  its  retinue  of  singing  men  and  women.* 
And  private  houses  increasingly  aped  the  fashion  of 
the  palace.  The  prophets  make  frequent  reference 
to  the  senseless  songs  that  disgraced  the  festive  joy 
at  the  tables  of  the  rich  (cf.  Amos  vi.  5f. ;  Isa. 
xxiv.  9;    Jer.  vii.    34,  etc.).     In  the   Apocr5^phal 

one  genuine  example  of  a  royal  wedding-song  we  have  in  the 
Old  Testament  belongs  to  the  Psalter  (cf.  Ps.  xlv.). 

1  This  practice  appears  as  earlj'  as  the  reign  of  David,  the 
aged  Barzillai  pleading  exemption  from  attendance  at  court  oa 
the  ground  that  he  has  no  more  pleasure  in  '  the  voice  of  singing 
men  and  singing  women  '  {2  Sam.  xix.  35).  It  prevailed  equally 
to  the  close  of  the  kingdom  ;  for  among  the  gifts  sent  him  by 
Hezekiah,  king  of  Judah,  Sennacherib  enumerates  '  his  daugh- 
ters and  the  women  of  the  palace,  singing  men  and  singing 
vromeu.' 


44  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

Wisdom  of  Solomon  we  hear  the  actual  words  of 
the  roysterers,  as  they  encourage  each  other  to  '  fill 
themselves  with  costly  wine  and  ointments,  and  let 
no  flower  of  the  spring  pass  by  them  ;  crown  them- 
selves with  rosebuds  before  they  wither  ;  and  leave 
tokens  of  their  jollity  in  every  place  they  pass ' 
(ii.  6ff.),  in  the  very  spirit,  ai:d  almost  the  language, 
of  the  Persian  epicure,  Omar  Khayyam. 

These  foolish  drinking-songs  might  even  degen- 
erate into  coarse  jests  at  the  expense  of  the  poor 
and  unfortunate.  Thus  in  Job's  '  crown  of  sorrow  ' 
not  the  least  cruel  thorn  was  the  reflection  that  he 
was  now  become  the  '  song  and  byword  '  of  those 
who  once  held  him  in  honour  (xxx.  9),  And  other 
suffering  saints  have  the  same  lament  to  make. 
They  are  '  the  song  of  drunkards '  (Ps.  Ixix. 
12) ;  even  '  to  all  peoples  a  derision — their  song  all 
the  day  '  (Lam.  iii.  14). 

In  Israel,  too,  the  silence  of  death  was  broken  by 
the  mournful  strains  of  lamentation.  True  pictures 
of  Oriental  mourning  are  preserved  in  such  texts 
as  Gen.  1.  10,  where  the  children  of  Israel  '  lament 
for  their  father  with  a  very  great  and  sore  lamenta- 
tion ;  '  Judg.  xi.  40,  where  the  virgins  of  Israel 
yearly  '  lament  the  daughter  of  Jephthah  the  Gilead- 
ite  ;  '  and  2  Chron.  xxxv.  25,  where  the  singing  men 
and  women  of  Judah  celebrate  the  death  of  good 
king  Josiah  '  even  to  this  day.'     In  the  prophetic 


The  Folk-Poetry  of  Israel      45 

anticipations  of  the  sufferings  of  Judah,  too,  the 
mourning  women  play  a  large  part  (cf .  Amos  v,  i6  ; 
Jer.  ix.  lyii.,  etc.).  These  lamentations  of  the 
Hebrews  consisted  in  the  prolonged  repetition  of  a 
certain  catch-word,  either  'dhdh,  'dhdh  (cf.  Judg. 
xi.  35),  or  hoi,  hoi;  ho,  ho  (Amos  v.  i6),  usually 
conjoined  with  a  word  like  'dhi,  '  my  brother,'  or 
'ddon,  '  lord  '  (i  Kings  xiii.  30  ;  Jer.  xxii.  18,  etc.), 
though  the  same  effect  of  inconsolable  sorrow  might 
be  produced  by  other  repetitions,  as  in  David's 
desolating  lament  over  Absalom,  '  O  my  son  Absalom, 
my  son,  my  son  Absalom  !  Would  God  I  had  died 
for  thee,  O  Absalom,  my  son,  my  son  ! '  (2  Sam. 
xviii.  33).  1 

Out  of  these  simple  repetitions  there  emerged  in 
this  region  also  those  more  classical  utterances  of 
grief  which  long  survive  the  shock  that  gave  birth  to 
them.  In  the  Old  Testament  such  immortal  elegies 
are  associated  mainly  with  the  great  heart  of  David. 
The  death  of  Abner,  the  captain  of  the  enemy's 
host,  moved  him  to  poetic  notes  of  indignant  sorrow 
(2  Sam.  iii.  33f.)  : — 

Was  Abner  to  die  like  a  fool? 
Thy  hands  were  not  bound, 


*  Among  other  nations,  too,  these  repetitions  constitute  the 
essence  of  the  simple  lament  Cf.  Gummere,  Beginnings  0/ 
Poetry,  pp.  229fi, 


46  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

Nor  thy  feet  placed  in  fetters. 
But  thy  fall  was  as  that  of  a  villain.^ 

Far  more  deeply,  however,  did  the  death  of  his  friend 
Jonathan  affect  him  ;  and  this  has  inspired  that 
most  tender  and  true  expression  of  manly  sorrow  (3 
Sam.  i.  igff.)  : — 

Thy  glory,  O  Israel,  is  slain  on  thy  heights  ; 
Ah  !  how  are  the  heroes  fallen  !  ■ 

Tell  not  the  news  in  Gath, 

Nor  publish  in  Ashkelon's  markets  ; 
Lest  the  Philistines'  daughters  rejoice. 

Lest  the  daughters  of  th^  uncircumcised  triumph  I 

Hills  of  Gilboa,  no  dew  fall. 

Nor  rain  on  you,  plateaus  of  death  !  ^ 
For  there  lies  defiled  the  buckler  of  heroes. 

The  sword  of  Sha'ul,  anointed  no  more  * 

From  the  blood  of  the  slain, 

From  the  fat  of  the  brave. 
The  bow  of  J'hondthdn  swerved  not  back. 

Nor  hungry  came  home  the  sword  of  Sha'ul. 


*  To  bring  this  line  into  harmony  with  the  first,  we  should  omit 

*  The  reading  of  the  first  stanza  is  somewhat  uncertain  (cf. 
LXX).  But  the  suggestion  offered  in  that  Version  appears  to 
be  no  improvement. 

3  The  Mass.  mO-liri  is  rightly  read  by  modern  critics  as  a  cor- 
ruption of  niD  nn,  the  nn  being  most  probably  an  explanatory 
gloss  on  '•'lb',  fields,  or  plateaus  (cf.  Judg.  v.  4).  For  other  sug- 
gestions, cf.  G.  A.  Smith,  Hist.  Geog.,  p.  404. 

*  Here  n^K'O  should  at  least  be  altered  to  n-IJi'D,  and  the  clause 
made  to  refer  to  the  anointing  of  shields  for  the  battle  (cf.  Verg., 
Aen.  vii.  626,  etc.).  A  more  ingenious  suggestion  is  to  read 
n-1JJ'0  v?,  arms  of  the  Anointed. 


The  Folk-Poetry  of  Israel      47 

Shd'iil  and  J^hondikdn,  the  loved  and  the  lovely. 

In  life  and  in  death  undivided  ! 
They  were  swifter  than  eagles, 

They  were  stronger  than  lions. 

Daughters  of  Israel,  weep  for  Shd'M, 
Who  clothed  you  in  scarlet  luxuriously. 

And  with  golden  adorning 
Decked  your  apparel. 

Ah  I  how  are  the  heroes  fallen 

In  the  thick  of  the  fight  I 
O  J'hondthdn  ! 

Thou  art  pierced  to  the  death  I  * 

Woe's  me  for  thee,  my  brother  J'hdndihdn  ! 

Dearest  of  friends  hast  thou  been. 
Wonderful  thy  love  unto  me, 

Passing  the  love  of  women  !  .    , 

Ah  !  how  are  the  heroes  fallen, 

A  nd  perished  the  weapons  of  war  I 

It  will  be  evident  from  such  survivals  of  the  old 
folk-poetry  of  Israel  how  simply  and  naturally  the 
secular  there  passed  into  the  sphere  of  religion. 
The  battle-songs  of  Moses  and  Deborah  might, 
indeed,  with  equal  propriety  be  described  as  hymns 
of  praise  to  Jahweh.  For  He  was  the  real  Lord  of 
Israel's  hosts.  Those  who  trooped  to  the  battle 
under  Barak  and  Deborah  came  '  to  the  help  of 
Jahweh  among  the  heroes,'  And  the  victory  was 
His.     For  Jahweh  it  was  who  in  Person  '  plucked 

^  I  have  here  followed  the  reading  of  the  Lucian  and  other 
recensions  of  the  LXX.  But  the  text  still  seems  to  be  incom- 
plete. 


4  8  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

down  the  uprisers.'  Thus  the  ark,  which  symboHzed 
His  presence  among  His  people,  was  carried  in  battle- 
array  to  the  strains  of  a  real  religious  hymn  : — 

Arise,  Jahweh  ! 

And  let  Thine  enemies  be  scattered. 

Let  all  that  hate  Thee  flee  !  ^  (Num.  x.  35) ; 

and  when  the  victory  was  won,  it  was  returned  to 
its  place  amid  equally  sacred  rites  : — 

Rest  Thou,  Jahweh  ! 
And  bless  the  myriads 
Of  the  tribes  of  Israel !  •  (Num.  x.  36). 

But  the  simple  greetings  of  life  had  likewise  their 
religious  note.  In  the  harvest-field  master  and  man 
hailed  each  other  with  the  kindly  blessing — 

The  blessing  of  Jahweh  be  on  you ; 

In  the  name  of  Jahweh  we  bless  you  !  (Ps.  cxxix.  8). 

And  no  doubt  in  other  spheres  of  labour  similai 
devout  wishes  were  extended. 

The  worship  of  Jahweh  was  naturally  accom- 
panied by  songs  of  a  more  distinctively  religious 
tone.  Even  such  a  perversion  of  worship  as  the 
adoration  of  the  golden  calf  sent  up  to  heaven  its 
joyous  '  noise  of  them  that  sing  '  (Exod.  xxxii.  i8). 

1  Here  also  I  have  followed  LXX  in  adding  "^3  and  omitting 
?I''3BP — a  reading  wMch  secures  a  finer  rhythmical  effect. 

•  The  Mass.  text  is  clearly  defective.  Budde's  alteration  of 
nnitJ'  to  niK',  with  the  insertion  of  ri313-1  before  the  somewhat 
similar  lettering  of  n'U31,  seems  to  yield  the  happiest  emendation. 


The  Folk-Poetry  of  Israel      49 

On  the  high  places,  too,  the  worshippers  celebrated 
the  goodness  of  their  God  with  songs  of  almost 
boisterous  mirth  (Amos  v.  23,  etc.).  From  its 
inception,  the  purer  worship  of  the  Temple  was  like- 
wise attended  by  songs  of  praise  to  Jahweh.  By  a 
happy  fortune  the  Book  of  Kings  has  preserved  for 
us  the  solemn  Song  of  Dedication  with  which  Solomon 
inaugurated  this  worship,  a  song  whose  accent  of 
reverent  devotion,  combined  with  delight  in  the 
near  presence  of  Jahweh,  makes  it  a  true  forecast 
of  the  nobler  hymns  that  were  in  after  ages  to  exalt 
the  '  house  of  Jahweh's  habitation  ' : — 

In  the  heavens  hath  Jahweh  set  the  sun, 

But  Himself  hath  chosen  to  dwell  in  darkness. 

For  Thee  have  I  built  an  house  of  habitation, 

A  place  for  Thy  dwelling  to  ages  all  ^  (i  Kings  viii.  i2f.). 


^  The  first  stichos  of  the  Song  is  wanting  in  the  Hebrew  text, 
but  has  been  conjecturally  restored  from  the  "UXiov  kyvupiaev 
iv  ovpavifi  Ki^ptos  of  the  LXX,  iyvd^purev  representing  an  original 
|'2n,a  textual  mistake  for  ppH  (cf.  Wellhausen,  Comp.  des  Hexa- 
teitchs*,  p.  271,  followed  by  Robertson  Smith,  G.  A.  Smith,  Skin- 
ner, etc.).  Objection  has  recently  been  offered  by  F.  C.  Burkitt 
and  St.  J.  Thackeray  to  the  rendering  of  eyvupia-ev  by  prin(cf. 
Journal  of  Theological  Studies,  X.  439ff. ;  XL  5i8ff.).  But  the 
results  arrived  at  by  these  scholef ;  seem  to  yield  a  less  satis- 
factory sense.  The  LXX  makes  the  last  two  stichoi  imperative  : 
thus.  Build  me  an  house,  etc. — placing  the  words  in  Jahweh's 
mouth.  The  indicative,  however,  appears  more  in  keeping  with, 
the  context  of  the  poem. 


CHAPTER    III 

Musical  Accompaniments  of 
Hebrew  Song 

It  has  been  shown  how  ancient  folk-poetry  was 
never  a  mere  hterary  performance,  but  a  real  song 
to  be  sung  by  the  popular  chorus,  with  improviza- 
tions  in  solo.  The  earliest  singing  appears  to  have 
been  a  strongly  rhythmical  chant,  with  no  musical 
modulation  of  tone.  And  even  when  a  certain  feel- 
ing for  melody  was  developed,  the  art  of  music  long 
remained  in  its  simplest  stages.  A  few  notes 
covered  the  whole  compass  of  the  scale,  though  the 
smaller  intervals  then  in  vogue  widened  the  range 
to  some  extent.  The  melody  of  the  first  bar  or 
two  was  thus  usually  repeated  through  the  entire 
song.  The  sense  of  harmony  was  equally 
rudimentary.  Early  singing  was  almost  exclusively 
in  unison.  The  only  suggestion  of  harmony  was 
found  in  the  lower  octave  of  the  male  voices.  But 
often  this,  too,  was  avoided,  an  artificial  unison 
being  reached  through  falsetto. 

The  Old  Testament  contains  but  a  few  faint  hints 


Musical  Accompaniments       5  i 

as  to  the  character  of  ancient  Hebrew  song.  But 
these  are  enough  to  indicate  that  the  Hebrews 
stood  on  the  same  musical  platform  as  their  neigh- 
bours. Here,  too,  the  rhythm  remained  the  pre- 
dominant element.  Early  songs  like  the  fierce  ■ 
lay  of  Lamech  were  no  doubt  chanted  to  a  strongly 
marked  rhythm.  And  to  a  much  later  age  the 
battle-songs  of  Moses  and  Deborah  were  most 
probably  recited  in  rhythmic  chant,  with  but  various 
unstudied  modulations  of  voice,  the  immediate 
expression  of  the  feeling.  A  certain  development 
of  melody  is  presupposed  in  the  tunes  of  folk-songs 
already  referred  to  (p.  27).  But  these  were  doubt- 
less as  simple  as  the  popular  melodies  heard  to  the 
present  day  among  the  peasantry  of  Palestine,  and 
in  other  centres  of  primitive  Semitic  ways.  As 
has  been  noted,  ancient  Hebrew  song  was  choral, 
and  responsive.  The  one  choir  would  break  forth 
into  a  simple  strain  ;  the  other  would  catch  it  up, 
and  ring  a  few  slight  changes  on  the  same  theme, 
no  doubt  to  the  melody  of  the  original  chorus.  This 
simple  responsion  would  often  be  kept  up  for  hours 
tog^ier.  Even  after  the  primitive  couplet  had 
given  place  to  far  richer  developments  of  folk-song, 
the  old  melodies  survived,  and  were  actually 
extended  to  the  worship  of  Jahweh  with  no  feeling 
of  incongruity.  As  among  other  ancient  nations, 
the  choral  singing  of  Israel  was  unisonous.     In  the 


5  2  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

instrumentation  of  later  times,  indeed,  an  ele- 
mentary form  of  harmony  does  appear  to  have  been 
attempted  through  the  striking  of  different  octaves. 
But  in  the  actual  song  this  was  avoided  by  the 
rigid  separation  of  the  male  and  female  voices 
which  still  prevails  in  Eastern  lands. 

To  the  cultivated  taste  of  modern  times  such 
primitive  melodies  must  appear  monotonous  in  the 
extreme.  But  sympathetic  students  of  Oriental 
ideals  have  learned  both  to  appreciate  and  to  enjoy 
their  peculiar  genius.  The  more  restrained  and 
sonorous  tones  of  the  male  voice  they  have  found 
solemn,  dignified,  and  plaintive  ;  and  the  piercing 
melodies  of  the  women  expressive  in  the  highest 
degree.^    The  effect   is  largely   intensified  by  the 

^  Thus  Lane  speaks  of  the  '  small  and  delicate  gradations  of 
sound '  as  giving  '  a  peculiar  softness  to  the  performances  of 
the  Arab  musicians,  which  are  generally  of  a  plaintive  charac- 
ter ;  '  and  adds,  '  I  must  confess  that  I  generally  take  great 
delight  in  the  more  reiined  kind  of  music  which  I  occasionally 
hear  in  Egypt ;  and  the  more  I  become  habituated  to  the  style, 
the  more  I  am  pleased  with  it ;  though,  at  the  same  time,  I 
must  state  that  I  have  not  met  with  many  Europeans  who  enjoy 
it  in  the  same  degree  as  myself  '  {Modern  Egyptians,  5th  edit., 
II.  58f.).  And  Cornill,  who  had  the  privilege  of  listening  to 
selected  illustrations  of  Arabic  music  at  the  Congress  of  Oriental- 
ists in  Algiers  (1905),  says,  '  The  impression  of  the  whole  was  very 
striking,  presumably  because  of  the  difference  between  male  and 
female  singing.  Never  did  both  groups  perform  together  in  a 
mixed  chorus,  but  each  group  sang  by  itself.  The  song  and  music 
of  the  men  was  very  solemn  and  dignified,  in  slow  time  without 
a  distinct  rhythm  or  melodious  cadence,  but  in  a  sort  of  recita- 


Musical  Accompaniments       53 

dancing  which  is  the  universal  accompaniment  of 
ancient  song.  This,  too,  is  no  studied  art,  but 
a  reflection  of  feehng  as  immediate,  true  and  full 
as  the  song  itself.  In  song  the  feeling  is  expressed 
through  rhythmical  language ;  in  the  dance  by 
rhythmical  movements  of  the  body.  Ancient  danc- 
ing was  an  act  of  the  whole  man,  the  intensity  oi 
his  feeling  forcing  itself  through  every  member, 
and  finding  relief  in  varied  gestures,  accompanied 
by  hand-clapping  and  the  clashing  of  arms  and 
ornaments.  The  dance  was  as  significant  a  feature 
of  musical  utterance  among  the  Hebrews  as  else- 
where. The  singing  choruses  that  went  with  Miriam 
and  Jephthah's  daughter  to  celebrate  the  victories 
of  Jahweh  welcomed  the  returning  warriors  '  in 
dances  '  (Exod.  xv.  20  ;  Judg.  xi.  34).  And  the 
women  who  '  came  out  of  all  the  cities  of  Israel  to 
meet  king  Saul  '  rang  forth  the  praises  of  David, 
'  singing  and  dancing  '  (i  Sam.  xviii.  6).  But  many 
other  occasions  of  joy  were  intimately  associated 
with  the  dance.  The  boys  and  girls  danced  at 
their  play  (Job  xxi.  11  ;  cf.  Matt.  xi.  17).  The 
young   men   and   maidens   danced   at   the   annual 

tive,  which  is  now  in  vogue  in  the  latest  music.  The  music  of 
the  women  was  very  difEerent.  In  their  performance  all  was 
fire  and  life.  They  sang  in  a  pronounced  melody  with  sharply 
accentuated  rhythm  in  a  passionate  tempo,  and  they  treated  the 
instruments  with  which  they  accompanied  their  singing  with 
incredible  expression  '  (Music  in  the  Old  Testament,  p.    17). 


54  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

festivals  (Judg.  xxi.  21),  and  in  their  hours  of  mirth 
around  the  city  gates  (Jer.  xxxi.  13  ;  Lam.  v.  15  ; 
Ps.  XXX.  11).  Households  celebrated  the  return 
of  their  lost  sons  with  '  music  and  dancing  '  (Luko 
XV.  25).  The  dance  was  equally  the  expression  of 
religious  zeal.  The  prophets  who  swept  down  on 
Saul  with  their  tabrets  and  flutes  and  harps  (i  Sam^ 
X.  5ff.)  were  no  doubt  dancing  to  the  music  in  their 
frenzy  of  religious  enthusiasm.  King  David  likewise 
displayed  his  zeal  for  Jahweh  by  dancing  before 
Him  with  all  his  might  (2  Sam.  vi.  I4ff.).  The 
religious  dance  was  counted  not  unworthy  even  of 
the  solemn  worship  of  the  Temple.  For  the  Psalmist 
calls  on  men  to  praise  Jahweh  '  with  the  dance,' 
as  they  do  with  timbrel  and  harp  (Pss.  cxlix.  3,  cl. 

4). 

In  equally  vital  relation  to  song  stood  instru- 
mental music.  In  modern  times  this  has  developed 
into  an  independent  mode  of  expressing  feeling. 
But  among  ancient  nations  it  was  a  real  daughter 
of  song,  and  always  remained  in  a  position  of 
dependence.^    The  simplest  instruments  were  but 

^  Even  to  so  aesthetic  a  people  as  the  Greeks  the  melody  was 
strictly  subordinate  to  the  words.  Songs  and  hymns  were 
ava^L(p6piJ.iyy€s,  lords  of  the  lyre  (Pindar,  01.  ii.  i).  A  grave  pro- 
test was  raised  by  Plato  {Laws,  669,  E)  against  attempts  to  di- 
vorce the  two.  And  even  Aristotle,  who  recognized  more  fully 
the  ethical  quality  of  melody,  apart  from  words,  as  a  real  ex- 
pression of  the  '  movement '  of  the  soul,  insisted  on  the  suprem- 


Musical  Accompaniments       55 

intensifiers  of  the  hand-clapping,  stamping,  and 
clashing  that  accompanied  primitive  song  and 
dance.  The  most  widely  used,  and  probably  also 
the  earliest  in  origin,  was  the  drum,  originally  a 
mere  strip  of  hide  thrown  over  the  lap  or  shoulder, 
though  in  later  times  its  resonant  power  was  in- 
creased by  the  round  framework  of  wood,  sherd,  or 
metal  on  which  the  hide  was  stretched.  The  drum 
lent  itself  as  an  apt  accompaniment  to  the  rhythmic 
chant  and  dance  that  formed  the  earliest  type  of 
musical  utterance.  It  yielded  no  melody,  indeed, 
but  it  marked  the  time.  As  such,  the  instrument 
played  a  large  part  in  the  artistic  life  of  ancient 
Israel.  In  the  passages  already  cited  (Exod.  xv. 
20  ;  Judg.  xi.  34  ;  i  Sam.  xviii.  6),  the  women's 
choruses  appear  with  tuppim,  '  timbrels  '  or  tam- 
bourines— light  hand  drums,  often  highly  decorated, 
which  kept  time  to  the  rhythm  of  the  song  and 
dance.  In  the  third  of  these  passages  (i  Sam. 
xviii.  6)  the  timbrels  are  associated  with  shalishim, 
probably  a  species  of  metal  triangle,  which  added 
a  pleasing  tinkle  to  the  pure  rhythm  of  the  drum. 
A  still  further  development  is  presupposed  in  the 
account  of  the  bringing  of  the  ark  to  Jerusalem  (2 

acy  of  words  as  the  most  direct  and  adequate  medium  of  expres- 
sion {Problems,  xix.  lo).  In  like  manner,  the  Hebrews  described 
musical  instruments  as  "l*^n  v3^  instruments  of  song,  and 
musicians  as  simply  "  singers."  Their  function  was  not  to 
displace,  but  rather  to  heighten  the  effect  of,  song. 


5  6  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

Sam.  vi.  5),  where  the  timbrels  are  borne  in  com- 
pany with  two  other  tinkhng  instruments  :  the 
m*na'an'im,  or  '  shakers,'  apparently  metal  rings 
suspended  on  cross-bars,  like  the  Greek  sistnun, 
or  the  modern  Turkish  bell-tree ;  and  the  cd- 
^Him  or  m^giltayim,  '  clatterers  '  or  cymbals — brajS 
plates  struck  vigorously  together  to  produce  a  loud 
clang.  The  drum  apparently  continued  to  be  used 
in  religious  processions,  and  other  celebrations  of  a 
joyous  or  popular  character  (cf.  Pss.  Ixviii.  25 ; 
Ixxxi.  2  ;  cxlix.  3)  ;  but  alone  of  the  percussion  instru- 
ments the  cymbals  seem  to  have  found  a  place  in  the 
actual  worship  of  the  Temple  (cf.  i  Chron.  xxv.  6). 
The  use  of  animals'  horns  as  loud  sounding  instru- 
ments gave  the  impulse  to  a  still  richer  musical 
development.  In  Old  Testament  history  the  ram's 
horn  is  expressly  mentioned  in  the  story  of  the 
capture  of  Jericho  (Josh.  vi.  5),  and  in  the  Chroni- 
cler's account  of  the  institution  of  the  Levitical 
services  (i  Chron.  xxv.  5).  But  as  the  shophdr  or 
trumpet — a  natural  horn  only  gradually  replaced 
by  a  metal  imitation  of  the  same — it  played  a  much 
more  conspicuous  part  among  that  people.  The 
shophdr  was  associated  especially  with  scenes  of 
warfare.  To  its  peremptory  blasts  the  leader  sum- 
moned his  hosts  to  the  battle  ( Judg.  iii.  27 ;  vi.  34  ; 
I  Sam.  xiii.  3,  etc.).  The  sound  of  the  trumpet 
was  equally  the  signal  for  the  fray  (Job  xxxix.  24f.). 


Musical  Accompaniments       57 

To  the  same  commanding  notes  the  victorious 
general  called  back  his  troops  from  the  pursuit 
(2  Sam.  ii,  28  ;  xviii.  16),  or  disbanded  them  to  their 
homes  (2  Sam.  xx.  22).  The  shophdr  likewise 
sounded  forth  the  watchman's  warning  from  the 
tower  (Amos  iii.  6  ;  Hos.  v.  8,  etc.).  It  was  used, 
too,  for  the  summons  of  the  people  to  such  important 
national  functions  as  the  proclamation  of  the  king 
(2  Sam.  XV.  10  ;  i  Kings  i.  34,  etc.).  Hence  also  it 
passed  to  the  service  of  religion,  and  became  the 
recognized  instrument  for  the  announcement  of 
the  '  holy  convocation  '  on  the  first  day  of  the 
seventh  month  (Lev.  xxiii.  24 ;  Num.  xxix.  i), 
as  well  as  the  opening  of  the  jubilee  year  (Lev. 
xxv.  9).^  A  significant  place  is  assigned  to  the 
shdphdr  in  the  later  eschatological  literature.  To 
the  loud  blasts  of  the  trumpet  the  scattered  Jews 
are  brought  back  to  worship  Jahweh  in  the  holy 
mountain  of  Jerusalem  (Isa.  xxvii.  13).     According 


^  To  the  present  day,  at  the  New  Year's  service  and  other 
outstanding  ritual  occasions,  a  real  ram's  horn  is  used  in  the  Syn- 
agogues. These  horns  are  occasionally  adorned  with  Hebrew 
inscriptions,  though  more  generally  plain.  They  are  bent  at  the 
broad  end,  but  otherwise  straightened  and  flattened  by  heat. 
This  ram's  horn  '  is  not  only  the  one  ancient  musical  instrument 
actually  preserved  in  the  Mosaic  ritual,  but  it  is  the  oldest  form 
of  wind  instrument  in  the  world  still  retained  in  use.  There  seems 
to  be  little  doubt  that  it  has  been  continually  used  in  the  Mosaic 
service  from  the  time  that  service  was  established  until  now ' 
(Wellhausen,  Psalms,  p.  222). 


58  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

to  the  apocalyptic  Zechariah,  the  Lord  God  Himself 
blows  the  trumpet  for  the  last  judgment  (Zech.  ix. 
14).  And  this  idea  has  found  its  way  into  the  New 
Testament,  and  become  an  essential  element  in  the 
visions  of  the  end  (cf.  Matt.  xxiv.  31  ;  i  Cor.  xv. 
52  ;  I  Thess.  iv.  16).  But  in  the  religious  ritual  of 
the  Jews  a  larger  role  was  filled  by  the  nearly  related 
Jidgog^rdh,  which  Josephus  [Antiq.  III.  xii.  6) 
describes  as  a  silver  tube,  almost  a  cubit  long, 
somewhat  thicker  than  a  flute,  '  with  so  much 
breadth  as  sufficed  for  the  admission  of  the  breath 
of  a  man's  mouth,'  but  widening  in  front  into  a  bell 
shape — that  is,  exactly  the  form  of  instrument  with 
which  the  representations  on  the  triumphal  arch 
of  Titus  and  the  later  Jewish  coins  have  made  us 
familiar,  and  which  Christian  art  of  the  Middle 
Ages  has  placed  in  the  hands  of  angels.  In  the 
earlier  period  of  Old  Testament  history  the  hago- 
Q'rdh  was  used  equally  with  the  shophdr  for  secular 
purposes  (cf.  2  Kings  xi.  14  ;  Hos.  v.  8)  ;  but  in 
the  more  ritualistic  age  after  the  Restoration  it  was 
par  excellence  the  instrument  used  by  the  priests 
in  the  Temple.  The  most  explicit  directions  for 
the  use  of  the  two  silver  '  trumpets  '  are  found  in 
Num.  x.  2ff.  ;  while  the  Chronicler  represents  no 
fewer  than  one  hundred  and  twenty  priests  as  blow- 
ing these  instruments  at  the  dedication  of  the 
Temple  (2  Chron.  v.  12). 


Musical  Accompaniments       59 

A  wind-instrument  in  still  more  general  vogue 
is  the  pipe  or  flute,  whose  origin  is  likewise  to  be 
sought  in  the  mists  of  antiquity.  The  legends  of 
various  nations  have  associated  the  flute  with  the 
pastoral  stage  of  civilization,  attributing  its  inven- 
tion to  the  gods  of  shepherd  life.  There  seems 
little  doubt  that  the  shepherds  of  ancient  days 
whiled  away  the  weary  hours  of  watching  on  the 
veldts  by  pipings  on  simple  flutes  cut  from  the  reeds 
that  grew  around  them,  learning  the  art  perhaps 
from  the  whistling  of  the  wind  on  these  same  reeds. 
But  other  motives  appear  to  have  entered  into  the 
discovery.  Thus  Wallaschek  has  traced  the  origin 
of  primitive  bone-flutes  to  the  love  of  decoration 
manifest  even  in  the  earliest  stages  of  art.^  The 
first  flute  was  probably  but  a  single  pipe  or  tube, 
from  which  one  unvarying  note  was  produced. 
But  a  simple  scale  was  soon  secured,  either  by  the 
bundling  together  of  several  reeds  of  different 
length,  in  the  manner  of  the  Pan's  pipe,  the  proto- 
type of  the  modern  pipe-organ,  or  by  the  original 
device  of  cutting  holes  at  different  intervals  of  the 
same  reed,  through  the  opening  and  shutting  of 

*  From  the  appearance  of  a  holed  flute  of  stag-horn  among 
deposits  apparently  of  the  stone  age,  Wallaschek  concludes  that 
this  was  the  earliest  of  all  musical  instruments  {Primitive  Music, 
pp.  8if.).  On  the  other  hand,  it  should  be  borne  in  mind,  such 
an  instrument  would  be  more  readily  preserved  than  either  the 
drum  or  the  ordinary  pipe. 


6o  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

which  a  similar  effect  was  produced.  In  the  East 
a  combination  of  the  two  varieties  is  found  in  the 
shape  of  the  double  flute,  in  which  two  separate 
pipes  are  connected  with  the  one  mouth-piece. 

The  flute  type  was  known  to  the  Hebrews  from 
very  early  times.     Tradition  ascribes  to  Jubal  the 
invention  of  the  'ughab,  which  was  most  probably 
the  old  pastoral  Pan's  pipe  (Gen.  iv.  21).     Though 
little  mentioned  thereafter  in  the  Old  Testament, 
this  instrument   continued  as  a  favourite  accom- 
paniment of  the  joyful  songs  of  the  people  as  late, 
at  least,  as  the  age  of  Job  (cf.  xxi.  12;  xxx.  31). 
The  most  widely-used  instrument  of  this  type,  how- 
ever, was  the  hdlil,  a  holed  flute,  either  single  or 
double,  probably  in  the  beaked  style  so  common 
on  the  Assyrian  and  Egyptian  monuments.     Thus 
the  hdlil  formed  part  of  the  orchestral  accompani- 
ment of  the  prophetic  band  that  met  Saul  at  Gibeah 
(i  Sam.  X.  5).     The  popular  joy  at  the  installation 
of  King  Solomon  was  likewise  expressed  by  loud 
pipings   on  the  hdlil   (i   Kings   i.   40).     The  flute 
shared  also  in  the  licentious  music  of  rich  men's 
feasts  (Isa.  v.  12),  as  well  as  in  celebrations  of  the 
joy    of  worship.     To    the  accompaniment    of   the 
hdlil  men  went  in  procession  to  the  house  of  the 
Lord  (Isa.  xxx.  29).     If  the  n^hiloth  of  Ps.  v.  be 
another  description  of  the  flute,  it  played  some  part, 
as  well,  in  the  actual  praise  of  the  Temple.     The 


Musical  Accompaniments       6i 

Talmud  gives  it  a  distinct  place,  not  only  in  the 
torchlight  processions  of  the  Feast  of  Tabernacles, 
but  even  as  the  proper  musical  accompaniment 
of  the  Hallel  during  Passover,  The  dulcet  notes 
of  the  flute,  however,  made  it  the  peculiar  associate 
of  mourning.  ^  In  Assyrian  texts  the  word  '  flute- 
lament  '  is  the  technical  term  for  the  death-dirge. 
And,  though  this  expression  is  unknown  in  the  Old 
Testament,  the  prophet's  allusion  to  the  sounding 
of  his  heart  '  like  flutes  '  for  Moab  (Jer.  xlviii.  36) 
is  sufficient  evidence  that  in  Israel,  too,  flute- 
plajdng  was  almost  a  synonym  for  mourning. 

In  the  late  list  of  musical  instruments  (Dan.  iii. 
5ff.)  two  of  the  names  indicate  varieties  of  the  flute  : 
the  mashrokithd  (from  shdrak, '  to  whistle ' ),  probably 
a  more  developed  'ughdb,  or  pipe-organ,  and  the 
sumphonydh,  an  Aramaic  transliteration  of  the 
Greek  a-vfjucfxovla,  doubtless  a  bag-pipe,  consisting 
of  a  goat-skin  with  two  reeds  attached,  the  one 
forming  the  mouth-piece,  and  the  other  the  chanter, 
as  in  the  familiar  Highland  bag-pipe. 

The  impulse  to  another  type — the  n^gmoth,  or 
stringed  instruments — came  from  the  use  of  the 
bow  in  hunting  and  warfare.     The  original  harp 

1  It  is  interesting  to  note  as  one  of  the  '  problems  '  raised 
in  the  school  of  Aristotle,  why  the  flute  should  be  the  instrument 
alike  of  joy  and  sadness.  The  answer  returned  is  that  its  soft, 
sweet  notes  alike  soothed  men's  sorrow  and  heightened  their 
joy  (Problems,  xix.   i) 


62  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

was  probably  a  simple  one-stringed  bow,  like  the 
rahab  on  which  the  modern  Bedouin  still  twangs 
his  rude  melodies.  The  addition  of  other  strings 
correspondingly  enlarged  the  musical  compass  of 
the  instrument,  until  we  reach  the  ten-  or  twelve- 
stringed  harp  of  the  Hebrews,  and  the  yet  richer 
developments  of  modern  times.  In  the  Old  Testa- 
ment two  different  styles  are  found.  The  more 
popular  of  these — the  kinnor — is  already  associated 
with  the  'ughdb  in  the  old  tradition  of  Jubal  (Gen. 
iv.  2i).  It  appears  to  have  been  a  small,  portable 
lyre,  enclosed  in  a  square  or  rounded  frame-work 
of  sandal  or  other  fine  wood,  and  supported  by  a 
kettle-shaped  sounding  box,  over  which  were 
stretched  from  three  to  six  cat-gut  strings, — as  repre- 
sented in  delineations  of  Semitic  musicians  on  old 
Babylonian  and  Egyptian  monuments,  and  in 
somewhat  more  advanced  form  on  the  later  Jewish 
coinage,^ — played  either  by  plucking  the  strings 
with  the  finger,  or  striking  them  with  a  metal 
plectrum,  as  suggested  by  the  two  verbs  zimtmr, 
'  to  pluck,'  and  niggen,  '  to  strike.'  The  instrument 
appears  in  connexion  with  prophetic  excitation 
(i  Sam.  X.  5),  in  religious  processions  (2  Sam.  vi. 
5  ;   I  Chron.  xvi.  5),  at  the  solemn  dedication  of  the 

1  Cf .  the  reproductions  of  these  in  the  articles  on  Music  in  the 
Dictionary  of  the  Bible  and  Encyclopaedia  Biblica,  or  in  the  Appen- 
dix to  Wellhausen's  edition  of  Psalms  in  the  Polychrome  Bible 


Musical  Accompaniments       63 

new  wall  of  Jerusalem  (Neh.  xii.  27),  and  occasion- 
ally as  part  of  the  Temple  orchestra  (Pss.  xxxiii. 
2  ;  xliii.  4,  etc.).  But  it  was  peculiarly  associated 
with  secular  music  of  a  joyful  character.  It  filled 
its  role,  for  example,  in  family  festivals  (Gen.  xxxi. 
27),  besides  forming  part  of  the  orchestral  accom- 
paniment of  licentious  banquets  (Isa.  v.  12)/  and 
adding  to  the  seductive  spell  of  the  women  of  the 
streets  (Isa.  xxiii.  16).  To  the  exhilarating  strains 
of  the  kinnor,  likewise,  David  charmed  away  Saul's 
melancholy  (i  Sam.  xvi.  i6ff.).  But,  unlike  the 
soothing  flute,  it  had  no  part  in  the  mourner's  grief. 
When  the  iron  of  sorrow  entered  men's  hearts,  they 
laid  aside  their  harps,  or  hanged  them  on  the  willow- 
trees,  as  no  longer  beseeming  their  mood  (cf.  Ps. 
cxxxvii.  2  ;    Lam.  v.  14). 

Alongside  of  the  kinnor  appears  another  variety 
of  harp — the  nebel  or  '  psaltery  ' — the  shape  of 
which  is  said  by  Jerome  to  resemble  the  Greek 
letter  a — thus  most  nearly  representing  the  original 
bow-harp.  The  nebel  had  a  richer  compass  than 
the  more  popular  kinnor.  In  Pss.  xxxiii.  2  ;  xcii.  3, 
etc.,  we  read  of  ten-stringed  instruments.  And 
Josephus  states  that  the  '  psaltery  '  of  his  day  had 
'twelve  musical  notes'  {Antiq.  VII.  xii.  3),  The 
nebel  was   occasionally   used   in   scenes   of  revelry 

1  Among  the  Greeks,  too,  the  lyre  was  Sairbs  iraipTj,  male  of 
the  bavquct  {Odyssey  xvii.  271,  etc.). 


64  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

(Amos  V.  23  ;  Isa.  v.  12  ;  xiv.  11).  But  it  was  con- 
secrated especially  to  the  service  of  religion.  Thus 
the  instrument  played  its  part  in  the  prophetic 
orchestra  that  greeted  Saul  (i  Sam.  x.  5),  and  the 
more  elaborate  musical  accompaniment  of  the 
ark's  triumphal  progress  to  Jerusalem  (2  Sam.  vi. 
5).  Its  characteristic  place,  however,  was  in  the 
worship  of  the  Temple.  The  numerous  allusions 
to  the  nebel  in  Psalms  and  Chronicles,  for  example, 
are  all  in  this  connexion. 

Of  the  remaining  instruments  enumerated  in 
Dan.  iii.  5ff.,  the  kUhdris  and  p^santerim  are  simply 
transliterations  of  the  Greek  KcOap/s  and  -^aXT^pcov, 
exact  equivalents  of  the  Hebrew  kinnor  and  nehel, 
while  the  sabb'kd  is  most  probably  the  Greek 
aa/jL^vKi],  a  sharp-toned  triangular  harp  of  four 
strings,  according  to  Strabo  and  other  authorities 
of  '  barbaric  origin.' 

In  the  earlier  stages  of  art  the  various  instruments 
were  no  doubt  used  separately,  as  accompaniments 
to  different  types  of  song.  As  each  singer  was 
then  his  own  accompanist,  the  instrumental  music 
would  form  a  species  of  pleasing  interlude  in  the 
song.^     But  with  the  development  of  the  orchestra 

1  This  remains  the  type  ot  musical  accompaniment  in  Pales- 
tine to  the  present  day  (cf.  Schneller,  Kennst  du  das  Land,  pp. 
lyaff.).  We  should  not  conclude,  however,  with  Schneller,  that 
historical  Israel  never  advanced  beyond  this  stage, . 


Musical   Accompaniments      65 

a  musical  accompaniment  in  the  stricter  sense 
became  possible.  That  Oriental  peoples  were  fami- 
liar with  such  accompaniments  is  obvious  from 
musical  representations  on  the  monuments,  where 
singers  and  players  are  seen  to  unite  their  notes. 
And  the  natural  interpretation  of  the  key-passage, 
2  Chron.  v.  13,  is  that  the  singing  choruses  lifted  up 
their  voices  in  praise  to  Jahweh  in  time  with  the 
trumpets  and  cymbals  and  instruments  of  music. 
But  even  then  the  notes  were  in  unison.  '  The 
trumpeters  and  singers  were  as  one,  to  make  one 
sound  to  be  heard  in  praising  and  thanking  the 
Lord.'  The  only  approach  to  harmony  in  the 
modern  sense  would  be  found  in  the  different  timbre 
of  the  instruments,  and  the  occasional  setting  of 
these  instruments  to  different  octaves.  Thus  in 
another  classical  text,  i  Chron.  xv.  2of.,  we  read 
how  one  band  of  Temple  musicians  had  their  harps 
pitched  'al  'dldmoth,  '  after  the  manner  of  maidens/ 
i.e.,  most  probably,  on  the  soprano  key,  and  a 
second  their  lyres  'al  hashsh^mintth, '  on  the  eighth,' 
or  the  bass  octave.  Such  modes  of  harmony  were 
no  doubt  primitive  in  their  simplicity.  But  they 
showed  at  least  the  awakening  of  the  sense,  and  led 
the  way  to  the  marvellous  developments  of  modern 
times. 


CHAPTER    IV 

Golden  Treasuries  of  National  Poetry 

The  folk-songs  that  formed  the  subject  of  the  preced- 
ing chapters  were  inspired  by  no  literary  ambition. 
In  some  moment  of  warm  personal  feeling,  or  under 
the  impulse  of  a  thrilling  national  experience,  the 
poets  gave  forth  in  song  the  feelings  that  stirred  their 
own  hearts.  And  for  the  most  part  these  effusions 
passed  away  with  the  occasion  that  gave  them  birth. 
Only  a  few  select  gems  found  a  lodgment  in  the 
hearts  of  the  people — perhaps  for  the  haunting 
beauty  of  the  words  or  melody,  though  more  usually, 
no  doubt,  for  the  theme  that  inspired  them — and 
thus  entered  into  the  spiritual  inheritance  of  the 
nation.  As  the  generations  rolled  on,  the  treasury 
of  popular  poetry  was  continually  enriched  with 
the  golden  odes  of  more  finely  endowed  souls  that 
merited  a  real  claim  to  immortality.  With  the 
dawn  of  literature  there  emerged  also  guilds  of 
professional  singers  or  minstrels — like  the  Greek 
doLB6<i  and  the  Arabic  rdwi  or  reciter — whose  func- 
tion it  was  to  keep  alive  the  poetic  glories  of  their 
people.     But  as  a  rule  it  was  not  till  the  national 

6« 


Treasuries  of  National  Poetry   6  7 

consciousness  fully  awoke  that  any  attempt  was 
made  to  give  the  old  poetry  greater  permanence. 
A  full  century  had  to  elapse,  for  example,  from  the 
Flight  of  Mohammed  before  the  Arab  Humanists 
began  to  count  it  part  almost  of  their  religion  to 
rescue  from  oblivion,  and  commit  to  the  security 
of  the  pen,  the  brave  old  songs  of  the  Age  of  Ignor- 
ance. 

The  history  of  literary  art  in  Israel  passes  through 
essentially  the  same  phases.  In  the  early  days  of 
national  stress,  when  so  hard  a  fight  must  be  fought 
for  land  and  home,  the  songs  that  celebrated  the 
brilliant  deeds  of  their  fathers  lived  in  the  hearts  of 
the  people,  firing  them  to  emulate  their  courage  and 
loyalty.  In  more  peaceful  ages  wandering  mosMim 
— reciters  or  rhapsodists — still  kept  aglow  the  light 
of  poetic  inspiration  that  shone  from  the  past. 
But  not  till  the  fruits  of  victory  had  been  gathered, 
and  the  kingdom  was  firmly  established  under  David 
and  Solomon,  were  more  decisive  steps  taken  to  save 
the  rich  inheritance  of  national  song. 

In  the  historical  literature  of  the  Old  Testament 
two  separate  Anthologies  of  folk-poetry  are  referred 
to:— 

I.  The  short  fragment  in  Num.  xxi.  I4f.  is  cited 
from  the  Book  of  the  Wars  of  Jahweh,  evidently  a 
collection  of  battle-songs  from  Israel's  Wars  of 
Conquest  and  Independence.    To  the  same  source 


6  8  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

we  may  plausibly  assign  Deborah's  glorious  battle- 
hymn  (Judg.  v.),  and  the  verses  to  whose  accom- 
paniment the  ark  was  carried  to  and  from  the  battle- 
field (Num.  X.  35f.).  But  many  other  songs  now 
lost  must  have  gone  to  form  so  distinctive  an  Antho- 
logy. If  the  first  of  these  pieces  (Num.  xxi.  I4f.) 
relate  to  the  conquest  of  Moab  by  David,  the  earliest 
possible  date  for  the  compilation  of  the  book  will  be 
the  opening  years  of  the  monarchy.  And  no  cogent 
reason  seems  to  demand  a  much  later  origin.  The 
brilliant  reign  of  Solomon  undoubtedly  gave  an 
impulse  to  literary  activities.  The  people  enjoyed 
a  happy  respite  from  the  long  wars  that  had  won 
them  the  kingdom,  and  could  now  look  back  with 
pride  and  thankfulness  to  the  heroic  deeds  that  dis- 
tinguished them.  Thus  a  real  desire  arose  to  pre- 
serve the  memory  of  these  deeds.  The  beginnings 
of  historical  narrative  in  Israel — for  example,  the 
earliest  consecutive  accounts  of  David's  reign  (2 
Sam.  ix.-xx.) — belong  to  this  period.  It  would, 
therefore,  be  in  harmony  with  all  we  know  of  the 
spirit  and  purpose  of  the  age  to  ascribe  the  first 
Anthology  of  Israel's  national  song  to  this  birth-time 
of  conscious  literary  production.* 


^  Budde  ascribes  to  Solomon  himself  the  plan  and  supervision 
of  these  early  collections  of  folk-poetry,  aptly  comparing  him 
with  Charlemagne,  who  played  the  same  part  in  German  liter 
ary  history  {Gescbichte  der  Althebrdischen  Literatur,  p.  19). 


Treasuries  of  National  Poetry  69 

2.  A  second  collection  of  folk-poetry — the  Book 
of  Jashar — is  quoted  as  the  literary  source  of  the 
battle-song  of  Gibeon  (Josh.  x.  I2f.)  and  David's 
Elegy  over  Saul  and  Jonathan  (2  Sam.  i.  i8ff.), 
and,  in  the  Septuagint,of  Solomon's  Hymn  of  Dedi- 
cation (i  Kings  viii.  I2f.)  as  well.^  The  meaning 
of  hajjdshdr  has  been  much  disputed.  In  all  prob- 
ability, it  is  simply  the  collective  singular  of  the 
adjective.  The  Book  of  Jashar  would  thus  be  the 
Book  of  the  Upright,  in  other  words,  the  Book  of 
Israel's  Brave  or  Good  Men.  Such  a  title  would 
well  agree  with  the  known  character  and  scope  of 
the  Book,  celebrating,  as  it  does,  various  types  of 
goodness — that  of  the  loyal  friend  and  lover,  that 
also  of  the  zealous  worshipper  of  Jahweh,  the  builder 
of  His  Temple  and  inaugurator  of  His  worship,  to- 
gether with  that  of  the  valiant  soldier.  ^ 

The  date  of  the  Book  of  Jashar  is  likewise  sug- 
gested by  its  contents.  Even  on  the  authority  of 
the  Hebrew  text,  it  cannot  have  been  earlier  than 
the  reign  of  David.  But  the  very  probable  reading 
of  the  Septuagint  in  i  Kings  viii.  53  would  bring 
the  terminus  a  quo  down  to  the  middle  of  Solomon's 

*  According  to  the  LXX  (in  i  Kings  viii.  53)  the  hymn  was 
found  ev  /3t^Xi((j  t^s  v^v^i  i-^-  I^^D  "lQp3,iM  the  Book  of  the  Song, 
an  obvious  slip  for  "iK**!"!  "IQD3,  in  the  Book  of  Jashar. 

*  One  naturally  compares  the  Arabic  Collection  of  heroic 
poetry  entitled  Ham&sa,  literally,  manly  valour  (the  Roman 
virtus) . 


70  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

reign.  The  Collection  is  perhaps  later  than  the 
Book  of  the  Wars  of  Jahweh,  its  outlook  on  life 
and  character  being  wider  in  range.  But  probably 
no  great  distance  of  time  separates  the  two.  At  all 
events,  they  preserve  for  us  the  oldest  remains  of 
Hebrew  poetical  literature.  One  cannot  but  regret 
the  disappearance  of  the  sources  themselves.  Had 
we  their  contents  in  full,  we  should  have  gained  so 
much  more  vital  a  knowledge  of  the  natural  gifts 
and  qualities  of  the  race  through  whom  God  spoke 
to  the  world.  But  the  genius  of  the  Old  Testament 
is  so  predominantly  religious  that  the  other  poetic 
glories  of  Israel  pale  before  the  purer  light. 


CHAPTER   V 

The  Sorrows  of  Death 

It  can  hardly  be  doubted  that  the  stream  of  national 
poetry  which  flowed  so  strongly  in  the  early  ages 
continued  to  enrich  the  historical  period  as  well. 
But  the  glimpses  we  catch  of  its  windings  are  of  the 
faintest.  Only  with  the  Exile  does  it  appear  once 
more  in  full  flood.  To  the  close  of  this  era  is  to  be 
ascribed  the  splendid  '  Song  of  Moses  '  (Deut.  xxxii.)' 
a  richly  coloured  poetical  survey  of  Israel's  history 
in  the  spirit  of  the  greater  prophets.  But  the 
characteristic  outflow  of  the  feeling  of  the  age  is 
found  in  the  Book  of  Lamentations,  a  collection  of 
five  separate  elegies,  all  save  the  last  in  the  kindh 
or  elegiac  measure,  and  likewise  arrayed  in  elaborate 
acrostic  form,  preserving  the  memory  of  Jerusalem's 
death-agony.  In  our  English  Bible  these  lays  are 
appended  to  the  Book  of  Jeremiah,  and  are  actually 
described  as  the  Lamentations  of  Jeremiah,  in  har- 
mony with  the  accepted  tradition  in  Jewish  and 
Christian  circles,  which  is  mainly  responsible  for 
the  current  conception  of  Jeremiah  as  '  the  weeping 


72  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

prophet.'  The  tradition  dates  back  perhaps  to  the 
note  in  2  Chron.  xxxv.  25,  where  one  at  least  of  the 
elegies  appears  to  be  ascribed  to  Jeremiah.*  But 
it  finds  its  first  explicit  recognition  in  the  Septuagint, 
where  the  lays  not  merely  stand  in  close  relation  to 
Jeremiah,  but  are  likewise  introduced  by  the  follow- 
ing words  : — *  Now  it  came  to  pass,  after  Israel  had 
been  led  captive  and  Jerusalem  made  desolate,  that 
Jeremiah  ,sat  down  weeping,  and  lifted  up  this 
lament  over  Jerusalem,  saying,'  etc.  From  the 
Septuagint  the  tradition  passed  over  to  the  Syriac 
and  Vulgate  Versions,  and  thence  also  to  the  Pro- 
testant Church.  The  Jewish  Targums  equally 
associate  the  Book  with  the  name  of  Jeremiah. 
Later  legend  has  even  pointed  out  the  spot  where 
he  sat  and  wept.  And  the  poetic  imagination  of 
Christendom  has  delighted  to  linger  on  the  scene. 
There  is  certainly  a  fine  dramatic  fitness  in  the 
association.     For  how   often   Jeremiah   did   weep 


1  It  might  well  seem  inconceivable  that  by  the  lamentations 
of  Jeremiah  and  the  singing  men  and  women  over  king 
Josiah  the  Chronicler  had  our  present  book  in  view.  But  this 
conclusion  is  rendered  highly  probable  by  the  references  of 
Josephus,  Ant.  X.  v.  i,  and  Jerome,  in  his  note  on  Zech.  xii.  ii, 
to  lamentations  written  by  Jeremiah  on  the  occasion,  which 
'  remain  to  this  day,'  and  are  '  read  in  the  Church.'  Jerome 
even  appeals  to  the  authority  of  Chronicles  for  the  connexion  of 
the  book  with  Jeremiah.  The  idea  probably  arose  through  a 
mistaken  identification  of  '  the  anointed  of  the  Lord '  (Lam. 
iv.  20)  with  Josiah. 


The  Sorrows  of  Death        7  3 

'  for   the  slain  of  the  daughter  of  his  people.'    No 
unfrequently  in  his  sorrow  for  Zion  he  broke  into  the 
choking  kinah  metre  found  in  Lamentations.    The 
language,  too,  is  largely  reminiscent  of  Jeremiah. 
The  lays  are  steeped  in  the  feeling  of  the  prophet, 
and  turns  of  expression  characteristic  of  his  melting 
utterances  meet  us  throughout.     But  weighty  argu- 
ments bear  against  the  traditional  view.     In  the 
Hebrew  Bible  the  elegies  have  no  connexion  with 
Jeremiah.     They  find  their  place,  instead,  among 
the  Hagiographa  or  Writings,  standing  third  in  the 
list  of  Megilloth,  or  roll-books,  read  at  the  great 
festivals  of  the  Jews.     They  have  likewise  no  dis- 
tinctive title,  being  described  merely  as  'Ekhdh, 
'  Ah  !    how,'   from   the   opening   word  of  Lam.  i. 
Though  the  Septuagint  is  mainly  responsible  for  the 
tradition,  its  own  version  of  Lamentations  is  evi- 
dently by  a  very  different  hand  from  that  of  the 
prophecies  of  Jeremiah.    And  the  lays  themselves 
show  many  undesigned  distinctions  in  tone   and 
feeling.     Jeremiah  poured  out  his  conflicting  emo- 
tions  in   keen,   throbbing,   heart-breaking   words. 
In  Lamentations  the  language  is  carefully  studied 
and  chosen,  and  artistically  arranged  in  its  acrostic 
moulding.    The  passion  may  be  there — the  awfiil 
sorrow  of  Jerusalem's  last  anguish.     But  it  is  sub- 
dued.    In  the  later  lays,  especially,  there  is  some- 
thing of  that  sweetness  which  distils  from  the  mem- 


74  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

ory  of  '  saddest  thought.'  Jeremiah  spoke  out  of 
the  bitterness  of  his  soul.  The  author  or  authors 
of  Lamentations  seek  rather  to  soothe  their  sorrow 
by  quiet  meditation  on  the  woes  of  Jerusalem,  and 
searching  out  the  purpose  of  God  pursued  through 
the  wrack  and  ruin  of  His  people.  To  Jeremiah  the 
meaning  of  the  whole  direful  calamity  was  plain. 
He  had  long  forewarned  Jerusalem  that  this  was 
the  inevitable  end  of  their  apostasy  from  their  God. 
But  to  the  authors  of  Lamentations  it  came  with  a 
painful  shock  of  surprise  that  He  could  ever  have 
abandoned  His  people  to  their  foes.  The  lays  reveal 
nothing  of  the  prophetic  outlook.  The  troubles  of 
Israel,  they  feel,  have  come  to  them  through  trusting 
in  the  prophets'  dreams  of  '  falsehood  and  folly  ' 
(ii.  14).  And  they  no  longer  receive  '  vision  from 
Jahweh  '  (ii.  9).  The  authors  of  part  of  the  lays, 
at  least,  belonged  to  the  court  circles  of  Jerusalem, 
those  who  long  vainly  looked  for  help  to  Egypt  (iv. 
17),  till  in  despair  they  courted  safety  in  ignominious 
flight,  but  were  hunted  over  the  mountains,  and 
ambushed  in  the  desert,  and  had  the  crowning  sorrow 
of  seeing  '  the  breath  of  their  nostrils,'  the  Anointed 
of  Jahweh,  the  much-loved  king  under  whose  shadow 
they  had  hoped  to  live  among  the  nations,  '  trapped 
in  the  toils,'  and  carried  by  the  relentless  enemy  far 
off  to  Babylon  (iv.  i8ff.).  The  fortunes  of  Jeremiah 
during   the  death-throes  of  Jerusalem  were  very 


The  Sorrows  of  Death         7  5 

different  from  this.  Shut  up  in  his  prison-house, 
he  was  spared  the  awful  horrors  to  which  the  lays 
bear  such  personal  witness.  Nor  does  any  attempt 
appear  to  have  been  made  to  carry  away  the  prophet 
in  the  king's  wild  rush  for  freedom.  The  truest 
friend  the  people  of  Jerusalem  ever  had,  he  remained 
with  them,  vainly  imploring  them  to  turn  to  Jah- 
weh  and  live,  making  Him  their  Lord  and  King  amid 
all  their  calamities  (Jer.  xl.ff,). 

The  unity  of  the  Book  is  itself  the  subject  of  grave 
doubt.  The  differences  in  the  order  of  the  letters 
may  first  arouse  suspicion.^  But  various  other 
distinctions  in  date,  view-point  and  style,  enter  into 
the  question.  Of  the  five  chapters,  two  are  charged 
full  of  the  tragedy  of  Jerusalem's  downfall,  and  are 
undoubtedly  inspired  by  actual  memories  of  the 
scene.  The  others  carry  us  down  to  a  considerably 
later  period,  when  thoughtful  spirits  had  begun  to 
muse  over  the  mystery  of  God's  ways,  and  to  trace 
His  leading  hand  in  sorrow,  suffering  and  death. 
The  tone  here  is  no  simple  advance  upon  the  mood 
of  the  earlier  lays.  The  feeling  and  style  and  scene 
alike  point  us  to  different  minds. 

The  oldest  elements  in  the  Book  are  unquestion- 
ably  chaps,    ii.     and    iv.,   whose    vivid,   moving 

*  In  ch.  i.  the  usual  order  appears.  But  in  chs.  ii.-iv.  3  pre- 
cedes y,  '  as  though  with  us  p  were  to  stand  before  o '  (Noldeke, 
AUtestamenlliche  Literatur,  p.  146). 


76  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

pictures  of  the  ruin  of  Zion  clearly  bespeak  the 
eye-witness.  The  two  are  usually  assigned  to  the 
same  author.  But  the  poignant  religious  note  of 
ch.  ii.  is  so  far  removed  from  the  frankly  secular 
mood  of  its  fellow  that  the  assumption  is  open  to 
revision.  At  all  events,  the  date  of  both  elegies 
must  run  back  close  to  the  events  they  depict.  The 
now  generally  accepted  hypothesis  would  place 
them  about  the  year  570  B.C.,  some  fifteen  years 
after  the  actual  catastrophe,  when  sufficient  time 
had  elapsed  for  the  toning  down  of  the  passion  in 
the  calmer  region  of  reflection,  but  before  any  gleam 
of  hope  had  yet  appeared  on  the  distant  horizon. 
The  author  of  ch.  iv.,  at  least,  belonged  to  the  entour- 
age of  King  Zedekiah,  and  was  no  doubt  one  of  the 
captives  carried  in  his  train  to  Babylonia.  The 
origin  of  the  two  lays  is  thus  most  probably  to  be 
sought  there.^  And  this  hypothesis  would  best 
explain  the  reminiscences  of  Ezekiel  that  meet  us 
in  both.  2 


1  From  the  allusion  to  Edom  in  iv.  2if.,  Budde  concludes  that 
the  home  of  the  lays  must  have  been  Judah.  But  one  who  threw 
himself  so  completely  into  the  memory  of  the  scene  would  natur- 
ally rouse  the  old  feeling  against  the  unbrotherly,  inhuman  Edom. 

2  Thus  the  phrase  'the  perfection  of  beauty'  (ii.  15)  is  a 
direct  quotation  from  Ezek.  xxvii.  3f.  (though  here  applied  to 
Tyre).  The  comparison  of  Zion  with  Sodom  (iv.6)  is  a  crystalli- 
zation of  the  thought  in  Ezek.  xvi.  46£f.  The  '  trapping  in  the 
toils  '  (iv.  20)  equally  recalls  Ezek.  xix.  4,  8.  Among  other 
reminiscences  we  may  note  the  phrases  lyJ"!  DTH  (ii.  i),  as  com- 


The  Sorrows  of  Death         7  7 

A  second  closely  related  group  consists  of  chs.  i. 
and  V.  The  authors  of  these  two  lays  stand  at  some 
little  distance  from  the  tragedy.  In  ch.  i,  the  figure 
of  the  widowed,  childless  city  herself  raises  the 
lament  to  heaven.  The  companion  poem  (ch.  v.) 
is  the  prayer  of  the  afflicted  people.  Although 
apparently  of  different  authorship,  both  seem  to 
date  from  about  the  middle  of  the  century  (c.  550- 
540  B.c.).^  And  the  home  of  both  was  doubtless 
the  old  motherland  of  Judah — some  village  or 
blighted  landscape  near  Jerusalem  where  the  black 
crumbling  ruins  of  Zion  stood  ever  before  the  eyes 
in  mute  appeal. 

The  latest  of  the  lays  is  found  in  ch.  iii.  The 
artistic  form  here  shows  a  marked  development.  As 
in  chs.  i.  and  ii.,  three  kinah  verses  are  assigned 
to  each  letter  of  the  alphabet ;  but  the  whole  three 
are  now  introduced  by  the  same  key-letter.  The 
tone  of  religious  reflection  is  equally  advanced.  The 
veil  that  obscured  God's  ways  has  now  been  lifted 

pared  with  Ezek.  xliii.  7;  j^i;  ^"^OHtt  (ii.  4),  found  elsewhere  only 
in  Ezek.  xxiv.  16,  21,  25  ;  and  the  prophets'  '  visions  of  falsehood 
and  vanity'  (ii.  14),  against  which  Ezekiel  protests  as  strongly 
(ch.  xiii.  iff.,  etc.). 

*  From  supposed  reminiscences  of  Deutero-Isaiah  in  ch.  i., 
Budde  and  other  scholars  would  bring  its  date  down  to  a  few  years 
after  the  Restoration  (c.  530  b.c),  or  even  later.  The  afl&nities 
with  Deutero-Isaiah,  however,  seem  not  so  close  as  to  warrant 
this  assumption.  And  the  pathos  of  the  piece  is  by  no  means  in 
harmony  with  the  joy  of  the  Restoration. 


78  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

a  little ;  and  the  poet  is  able  dimly  to  discern  the 
glory  of  the  light  that  shone  even  amid  the  darkness. 
The  chapter  is  evidently  to  be  dated  some  con- 
siderable time  after  the  Restoration.  And  the  scene 
here,  too,  is  Judea,  the  poet  being  doubtless  a  son 
of  the  new  spiritual  community  that  had  learned 
in  the  land  of  their  exile  how  Jahweh  saves  through 
suffering  and  death. 

The  opening  stanzas  of  Lam.  ii.  choke  with  sorrow- 
ing wonder  that  Jahweh  should  have  dealt  so  hardly 
with  His  people.  For  the  poet  recognizes  no  second- 
ary causes.  It  is  Jahweh  Himself  that  has  '  be- 
clouded the  daughter  of  Zion,  and  hurled  from 
heaven  to  earth  the  glory  of  Israel '  {v.  1)  ;  Jahweh 
that  has  '  posted  Himself  as  a  foeman.  His  right 
hand  to  the  shaft,'  and  has  '  slain  each  delight  of 
the  eye  in  the  tents  of  Mount  Zion  '  [v.  4)  ;  Jahweh 
that  has  '  burst  through  His  own  hedge,  and  ravaged 
His  trysting-place,'  giving  over  the  place  of  His 
holiness  to  the  ruthless  hands  of  the  foe,  so  that 
'  they  shout  through  the  house  of  Jahweh,  as  on  one 
of  the  feast-days  '  {vv.  6f.).  And  now  temple  and 
fortress  and  rampart  alike  lie  '  racked  and  languish- 
ing '  in  their  sorrow  {vv.  8ff.). 

9  Sunk  to  the  ground  are  her  gates. 
Broken  her  bars.^ 

1  For  the  Piel  sing.  ISN  read  the  Kal  plur.  -niX,  in  the  intransi 
tive  sense  (cf.  Bickell).     131^1  is  doubtless  but  a  variant. 


The  Sorrows  of  Death         79 

Her  king  and  her  princes  are  exiles, 

Reft  of  the  Law. 
Even  her  prophets  no  longer  receive 

Vision  from  Jahweh. 

10  Low  on  the  ground  sit  speechless 
The  elders  of  Zion; 
Dust  they  pour  on  their  heads, 

They  gird  them  with  sackcloth. 
Their  heads  to  the  ground  bring  down 
Jerusalem's  daughters. 

XI  Mine  eyes  are  wasted  with  tears. 

My  bowels  are  moved  ; 
My  heart  is  poured  on  the  ground 

For  the  wreck  of  my  people. 
For  the  wastage  of  infant  and  suckling 

On  the  streets  of  the  city. 

12  They  say  to  their  mothers,  'Ah,  woe  ! 

Where  is  our  bread  ?  '  * 

While  they  swoon,  like  those  that  are  wounded, 

On  the  streets  of  the  city. 

And  pour  out  their  souls  in  death' 

On  the  breast  of  their  mothers. 
*  *  *  * 

15  Over  thee  clap  their  hands 

All  that  pass  by  ; 
They  hiss,  and  they  wag  their  heads. 

Over  Jerusalem  : 
'  Is  this  the  city  they  called 

The  Perfection  of  Beauty  ?  '  ^ 

*  The  first  stichos  here  is  too  short.  I  have  followed  Budde 
in  inserting  -137  ^i5<,  which  might  easily  have  fallen  out  before 
the  following  words.  On  the  other  hand,  the  second  stichos 
unduly  prolongs  the  Mndh  note.  The  easiest  emendation  is  to 
omit  |)>1,  which  is  in  any  case  hardly  applicable  in  the  mouth  of 
'  infants  and  sucklings.* 

*  The  first  stichos  is  again  too  short.  Insert  probably  ni.^? 
(G.  A.  Smith). 

'  The  closing  words  of  the  Massoretic  text,  which  mar  the 


8o  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

i6  Against  thee  open  their  mouths 

Thine  enemies  all. 
They  hiss,  and  they  gnash  their  teeth  : 

'  We  have  swallowed  her  up  !  ^ 
Ah  !  this  is  the  day  we  looked  for  ; 

We  have  found  it,  we  see  it.' 

17  Jahweh  hath  done  what  He  planned. 

Hath  accomplished  His  word. 
As  He  ordered  in  days  long  gone. 

He  hath  ruined  unpitying. 
He  hath  given  thine  enemies  joy  of  thee, 

Hath  exalted  their  horn.* 

The  ruin  of  Jerusalem  is  so  vast,  her  wound  so 
deep-cut,  that  the  poet  has  no  comfort  to  offer  her, 
no  human  healer  to  call  for  her  {v.  13).  Her  only 
hope  is  to  turn  to  Him  who  afflicted,  if  haply  He  may 
be  moved  by  her  sorrow  to  bring  deliverance. 

f8  Cry  thou  aloud  to  the  Lord, 
Virgin  of  Zion.^ 
Tears  let  fall  as  a  river. 
By  day  and  by  night. 


kindh  measure,  are,  no  doubt,  a  mere  reader's  insertion  from  Ps. 
xlviii.  2. 

1  Read  with  LXX,  etc.,  the  fern,  sing,  termination  H-I^V??. 
The  prosaic  -TION  may  then  be  dispensed  with. 

2  The  last  stichos  of  this  verse  is  hkewise  overladen.  G.  A. 
Smith  and  others  would  omit  ]'lp_.  But  this  word  is  so  appro- 
priate to  D'""in  that  it  seems  better  to  omit  '^)'^'i  and  read  b")i?(cf. 
Budde). 

3  For  the  meaningless  words  of  the  Hebrew  text  we  must  read 
either  r^h  ''pJ?V  or  "r]3^  ''pyV  (cf.  Ewald,  etc.).  In  the  second  half 
I  have  followed  Lohr  in  reading  n>in5,  virgin  daughter  of  Zion. 
Budde  and  G,  A  Smith  prefer  Vpn,  clamour,  O  Zion, 


The  Sorrows  of  Death         8  i 

No  respite  give  to  thyself; 
Rest  not  thine  eyes.^ 

19  Rouse  thee,  sing  out  in  the  night, 

At  the  first  oj  the  watches  ! 
Pour  out  thy  heart  like  waters 

In  the  presence  of  Jahweh  ! 
Lift  up  thy  hands  to  His  face 

For  the  life  of  thy  children.* 

20  '  Jahweh,  see  and  consider 

Whom  Thou  hast  treated  thus  I 
Should  women  devour  their  own  offspring. 

The  babes  they  have  fondled  ? 
Or  slaughter  overtake  in  Thy  sanctuary 

Prophet  and  priest  ? 

21  '  Thick  strewn  on  the  face  of  the  streets 

Are  old  men  and  boys  ; 
My  virgins  and  young  men  together 

Are  fallen  by  the  sword. 
In  the  day  of  Thy  wrath  Thou  hast  slain  them. 

Hast  butchered  unpitying. 

22  '  Thou  didst  summon,  as  'twere  a  feast  day. 

All  the  dwellers  around  me.^ 


>  Read  probably  the  plur.  ^?3*1?.  with  many  MSS.  both  of  the 
Heb.  and  LXX. 

2  The  fourth  couplet  in  the  Hebrew,  which  mars  the  general 
S5rmmetry  of  the  piece,  is  no  doubt  a  later  insertion. 

3  The  Massoretic  reading  recalls  Jeremiah's  3''3C)P  "liJO,  terrors 
on  every  side.  But  it  seems  more  in  harmony  with  the  context  to 
regard  ^1-13p  as  a  derivative  from  "l-lil,  meaning  '  sojourners ' 
(cf.  Job  xviii.  19).  We  should  theuhaveto  understand  the  verse 
as  referring  to  the  gathering  together  of  the  surrounding  populace 
into  the  city,  as  happened  again  during  the  siege  of  Titus,  thus 
both  intensifying  the  sufferings  of  the  siege,  and  adding  vastly  to 
the  number  of  the  slain. 

6 


82  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

In  the  day  of  Thy  wrath  there  was  left 

No  remnant  or  fugitive. 
Those  whom  I  nursed  and  brought  up 

My  foes  have  destroyed.' 

The  horror  of  the  scene  is  still  more  vividly  por- 
trayed in  the  companion  elegy  (ch,  iv.),  where  the 
religious  robe  is  dropped,  and  the  only  hope  for  Zion 
lies  in  the  full  paying  of  the  guilt,  and  the  consequent 
passing  of  the  cup  to  the  insolent  Edom  {vv.  2if.). 


X  Ah  !  how  dimmed  is  the 
The  finest  of  gold  ! 
Poured  are  our  sacred  stones  * 
Down  all  the  streets. 

2  The  sons  of  Zion,  the  priceless. 

Worth  weight  in  gold. 
Are  counted  but  earthenware  pitchers. 
The  work  of  the  potter, 

3  Even  the  jackals  give  breast. 

And  suckle  their  young. 
But  my  people's  daughters  ^  arc  monsters. 
As  ostriches  wild. 

4  The  tongue  of  the  nursling  cleaves 

To  its  palate  for  thirst. 
The  children  are  asking  for  bread  ; 
There  is  none  that  doth  offer  them, 

5  Those  that  were  fed  on  dainties 

Rot  on  the  streets  ; 
They  that  were  nurtured  in  scarlet 
Huddle  on  dung-hills. 

1  T\'i^\,  is  changed,  probably  a  mere  explanatory  gloss. 
*  The  '  gold '    and    '  sacred   stones '  here   refer,  not   to    the 
adornments  of  the  Temple,  but  to  the  precious  '  sons  of  Zion ' 

(of.   V.   2). 
»  Read  probably  n^rriiJ?,  with  Bickell,  etc. 


The  Sorrows  of  Death         8  3 

6  The  guilt  of  my  people  exceeded 

The  sin  of  S^dom, 
Whose  overthrow  came  in  a  flash. 
Ere  a  hand  could  be  wrung. ^ 

7  Her  princes  were  purer  than  snow. 

They  were  whiter  than  milk  ; 
Their  flesh  was  more  ruddy  than  corals, 
Their  veins  as  the  sapphire.^ 

8  Now  blacker  than  darkness  their  visage, 

Unknown  in  the  streets, 
Their  skin  is  drawn  tight  on  their  bones,— 
It  is  dry  as  a  stick. 

9  Better  the  slain  of  the  sword 

Than  the  slain  by  starvation. 
That  rot  in  blackening  decay. 
Like  the  fruits  of  the  field.^ 

10  The  hands  of  delicate  women 

Have  sodden  their  children. 
These  are  become  their  food 
In  the  wreck  of  my  people. 

11  The  Lord  hath  accomplished  His  fury, 

Poured  out  all  His  wrath  ; 
He  hath  kindled  in  Zion  a  fire. 
Which  devoured  her  foundations. 


^  The  point  of  the  comparison  is  doubtless  that,  judged  by 
their  respective  sufferings,  Jerusalem  had  been  held  more  guilty 
even  than  Sodom. 

'  Instead  of  DVy,  bone,  bodily  framework,  we  should  probably 
read  Dliy,  their  flesh,  or  some  similar  word,  with  the  sing.  verb. 
Bickell  reads  '3  QV^P  •1^'7';?>  they  were  ruddier  than  coral-bone, 
perhaps  an  even  happier  emendation.  I  have  followed  Budde  in 
translating  DJTlTil,  lit.  their  cutting,  as  their  veins. 

*  The  text  is  here  evidently  corrupt.  The  best  emendation 
proposed  seems  to  be  Dyserinck's  '•Hti*  ni3-13r)3  W^'^p^^^,  that  rot 
burnt  up  {blackened)  like  the  fruits,  etc. 


84  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

12  No  kings  of  the  earth  had  believed. 

Nor  men  of  the  world. 
That  assailant  or  foeman  could  enter 
Jerusalem's  gates. 

13  It  was  all  for  the  sins  of  her  prophets,^ 

For  the  crimes  of  her  priests, 
Who  shed  in  the  midst  of  the  city 
The  blood  of  the  just. 

14  Through  the  streets  they  totter  like  blind  men, 

Polluted  with  blood. 
What  they  could  not  endure  to  cast  eyes  on, 
They  sweep  with  their  robes. 

1 5  '  Depart,  ye  unclean  ! '  men  bid  them, 

'  Depart,  and  avoid  us  I ' 
So  they  stagger  and  totter  around. 
Nowhere  a  shelter. 

16  Jahweh  Himself  hath  dispersed  them. 

Caring  no  more. 
Respect  hath  He  none  for  the  priests. 
Nor  favour  for  prophets. 

17  How  long  strained  our  eyes  in  searching 

For  help  that  was  vain  ! 
We  looked,  and  still  looked,  to  a  people 
That  never  brought  help. 

18  Our  enemies  hunted  our  steps,* 

That  we  walked  not  abroad. 
Our  days  were  cut  short  and  completed. 
For  our  full  end  was  come. 

*  In  the  Heb.  the  third  accented  word  has  disappeared.  We 
might,  with  Budde,  add  -ISa  or  riNT,  The  above  translation 
supphes  the  idea  required. 

2  After  -1*1  y  we  should  doubtless  insert  the  subject  -"13 '"^y,  which 
might  so  easily  slip  out  from  such  a  context.  The-1i''ri3n"!  in  the 
second  stichos  probably  means  the  open  spaces  in  front  of  the 
gates,  where  they  could  no  longer  walk  with  safety  because  of  the 
stringency  of  the  blockade. 


The  Sorrows  of  Death         8  5 

19  Swifter  were  they  that  pursued  us 

Than  the  eagles  of  heaven  ; 
Over  the  mountains  they  pressed  us. 
Laid  their  snares  in  ihe  desert. 

20  The  breath  oj  our  life,  God's  anointed. 

Was  trapped  in  their  toils. 
Of  whom  we  had  said,  '  In  his  shadow 
We  shall  live  'mong  the  nations.' 

21  Be  glad  and  rejoice  in  thy  home-land. 

Daughter  of  Edom  !  * 
To  thee,  too,  shall  the  cup  pass  round. 
Till  thou'rt  drunk  and  dishevelled. 

22  In  full  is  thy  guilt  paid,  0  Zion  ; 

He  will  oust  thee  no  more. 
Edom,  thy  guilt  will  He  visit  ; 
Thy  sins  He'll  unveil. 

The  tone  of  Lam.  i.  is  different.  Zion  still  lies  a 
mass  of  blackened  ruins.  But  the  stains  of  the 
carnage  have  been  wiped  away,  and  the  healing 
hand  of  Nature  has  woven  its  tracery  of  flowers  over 
the  scars  and  rents  of  suffering.  There  is  a  real 
pathetic  beauty  in  the  picture  of  the  desolate  city 
lifting  her  hands  in  mournful  appeal  to  those  that 
passed  by  the  way.  The  bitterness  is  not  all  re- 
moved. This  elegy,  too,  closes  with  a  piercing  cry 
for  vengeance  on  the  enemy.  But  the  city  now 
knows  why  Jahweh  has  afflicted  her  thus  (cf.  vv. 
5,  8f.,  14,  lyi. ;  and  to  Him  alone  she  turns  for 
salvation. 

*  Read  }*'1XII  ri^K'V,  the  closing  ^-li;  being  a  simple  gloss  which 
has  found  its  way  into  the  text.  In  the  translation  the  two  final 
phrases  have  been  transposed. 


86  The  Poets  ot  the  Old  Testament 

1  Ah  !  how  lonely  she  sits. 

That  was  full  of  people  I  ^ 
She  is  become  as  a  widow, 

That  was  great  'mong  the  nations. 
The  queen  city  of  provinces 

Is  now  sunk  to  a  slave. 

2  Sore  doth  she  weep  in  the  night  time. 

The  tears  on  her  cheek. 
No  one  is  found  to  comfort. 

Of  all  that  loved  her. 
Her  friends  have  betrayed  her,  all  of  them  ; 

They  are  turned  to  be  foes. 

3  Homeless  is  Judah  through  suffering. 

And  soreness  of  travail. 
In  exile  she  dwells  'mong  the  heathen  ; 

No  rest  hath  she  found. 
All  her  pursuers  have  caught  her 

In  the  midst  of  the  toils. 

4  The  highways  to  Zion  lie  mourning, 

For  lack  of  their  pilgrims. 
Her  gates  stand  all  of  them  desolate  ; 

Her  priests  are  distraught. 
Her  virgins  are  plunged  in  affliction, 

Herself  is  in  bitterness. 

5  Her  foemen  are  now  the  head. 

Her  enemies  triumph. 
For  Jahweh  hath  swept  her  away 

For  the  tale  of  her  sins. 
Her  children  have  passed  into  exile 

In  front  of  the  foe. 

6  Gone  from  the  daughter  of  Zion 

Is  all  her  glory. 
Her  princes  are  feeble  as  harts 
That  can  find  no  pasture, 

1  The  word  "l^yn  unduly  prolongs  the  second  half  of  the  kindh 
measure,  and  is  probably  but  an  explanatory  gloss. 


The  Sorrows  of  Death         8  7 


Fainting  they  flee  without  strength 
Before  the  pursuer, 

7  Jerusalem  calleth  to  mind 

The  days  of  her  trouble,^ 
When  her  people  fell  by  the  foe. 

With  no  one  to  help  her. 
And  enemies  saw  her,  and  jeered 

Over  her  downfall, 

8  Jerusalem  hath  grievously  sinned. 

Hath  become  an  unclean  one. 
All  thai  honoured  abhor  her. 

Seeing  her  nakedness. 
Herself  is  distraught  with  sorrow, 

Backward  she  turns. 

9  Her  filthiness  clings  to  her  skirls, 

Her  end  she  regards  not. 
Thus  is  she  fallen  fearfully. 

With  none  to  bring  comfort, 
O  Jahweh  t  behold  my  affliction  I 

So  proud  is  the  foe. 

10  The  assailant  hath  spread  his  hand 

O'er  all  her  goodly  things  ; 
The  heathen  her  eyes  have  seen 

Pass  through  the  sanctuary. 
Even  those  Thou  badest  not 

Enter  Thy  try  sting-place. 

11  Plunged  are  her  people  in  grief. 

Seeking  for  bread  ; 
Their  treasures  all  have  they  given 

For  food  to  revive  them. 
O  Jahweh  I  see,  and  behold 

How  vile  I  am  grown  ! 


^  The  superfluous  ni'l-IID-l  is  doubtless  but  a  marginal  variant 
that  has  found  its  way  into  the  text.  The  whole  following  line 
in  Hebrew  is  equally  alien  to  the  context,  diverting  attention  from 
the  real  thought. 


88  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

12  '  Ho  !  ^  ye  that  pass  by  the  way  I 

Look,  and  consider 
If  sorrow  there  be  like  this 

That  is  wreaked  upon  me — 
The  sorrow  that  Jahweh  hath  caused 

In  the  day  of  His  wrath  I 

13  '  Fire  He  sent  from  on  high. 

And  infused  in  my  bones. 
The  net  He  spread  for  my  feet. 

Backward  He  turned  me. 
Weak  hath  He  left  me,  and  desolate 

All  the  day  long. 

14  '  Watch  hath  He  kept  on  my  sins. 

To  a  yoke  hath  He  twined  them  ; 
Over  my  neck  have  they  passed. 

Brought  low  my  strength. 
Into  their  power  hath  He  given  me  ;  * 

No  more  can  I  rise, 

15  '  Jahweh  hath  flung  to  the  ground 

All  the  strong  men  within  me. 
He  hath  summoned  a  festal  assembly 

For  the  wrack  of  my  warriors. 
In  His  wine-press  hath  Jahweh  trodden 

The  daughter  of  Judah. 

16  '  For  these  things  I  weep  without  ceasing  ; 
My  tears  flow  down. 
For  no  one  is  near  to  comfort. 
None  to  relieve  me, 

1  For  the  meaningless  DD^?X  N-17  LXX  and  other  Versions 
have  the  direct  appeal.  We  might  read,  perhaps,  D??  ^in,  an 
elegiac  note  of  grief,  or  simply  -ID?,  come,  hark  ! 

*  The  best  sense  appears  to  be  gained  from  >y^3"?y  '^p}i^)  of  a 
number  of  MSS,,  to  some  extent  supported  by  the  Versions.  The 
Vy  might,  however,  be  aptly  inserted  after  -171?  in  Une  2,  thus  giving 
the  stichos  adequate  length  and  meaning.  For  the  construct 
■•T-a  in  the  last  Une  read  VT?, 


The  Sorrows  of  Death         89 

My  children  around  me  lie  desolate. 
For  the  foe  hath  prevailed.' 

The  help  of  man  is  vain.       And  therefore  the 
stricken  city  rests  all  her  trust  in  her  God. 

20  '  See,  Lord  !  for  distress  is  upon  me  ; 

My  bowels  are  moved. 
Turned  is  my  heart  within  me. 

For  sore  have  I  sinned. 
The  sword  bereaveth  without, 

A  nd  plague  *  in  the  house, 

21  '  Hear,  O  Lord !  how  I  sigh. 

With  no  one  to  comfort  me; 
For  my  foes  have  all  heard  of  my  troubles, 

They  rejoice  at  Thy  doings, 
That  Thou  broughiest  the  day  Thou  proclaimedst 

On  all  my  sins.^ 

22  '  But  let  all  their  crimes  come  before  Thee, 

That  they  be  as  I  am  !  * 
As  they  have  done  unto  me, 

So  do  Thou  to  them  I  * 
For  full  is  the  cup  of  my  sorrows. 

And  faint  is  my  heart.' 

In  Lam.  v.,  as  has  been  noted,  we  have  the  prayer 
of  the  suffering  people  itself.  Here  the  Mndh  measure 
naturally  yields  to  the  normal  three-pulsed  verse. 
The  acrostic  garb  is  likewise  dropped.  If  '  men  do 
not  write  acrostics  when  their  hearts  are  breaking,'  ^ 
still  less  do  they  use  such  artifices  in  the  sacred  hour 
of  prayer.  The  only  reminiscence  of  the  alphabetical 
mould  appears  in  the  number  of  the  verses.    And 

1  Read  n.lJp,  in  the  sense  of  '  deadly  plague.' 

*  These  three  stichoi  have  been  transposed  (following  Budde). 

'  McFadyen,  Introduction  to  the  Old  Testament,  p.  296. 


go  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

even  this  may  be  the  result  of  later  redaction.  For,  as 
Budde  has  observed,^  vv.  ii,  12,  and  18  stand  in  no 
real  relation  to  the  context.  The  prayer  is  a  simple, 
sincere  expression  of  the  feelings  of  the  people  of 
Judah  during  the  mournful  years  of  Jerusalem's 
widowhood.  All  joy  is  gone  from  them.  Their 
spirit  is  well-nigh  broken  with  sorrow.  Yet  through 
all  their  distresses  faith  soars  to  God  in  His  heaven. 
He  abides  for  ever.  His  throne  is  securely  established 
from  age  to  age.  If  only  He  will  hear  their  prayer, 
and  return  to  them  in  His  mercy,  they  too  will  be 
turned,  and  their  days  be  renewed  as  of  old.  But 
this  still  seems  a  hope  beyond  expectation.  He 
has  forgotten  His  people  so  long,  that  He  may  well 
have  rejected  them  utterly,  so  fierce  is  His  anger 
against  them  ! 

1  Remember,  O  Lord,  what  is  come  on  us  ; 

Behold,  and  see  our  reproach  ! 

2  To  strangers  is  turned  our  inheritance  ; 

Our  homes  are  given  unto  aliens. 

3  Orphans  we  are,  and  fatherless  ; 

Our  mothers  are  doomed  to  be  widows. 

J  Our  water  we  drink  for  money  ; 
Our  wood  we  buy  at  a  price. 

5  The  yoke  presses  hard  on  our  neck  ;  ' 
We  are  wearied,  and  find  no  rest. 

*  Kurzer  Hand-Commentar,  pp.  i04flf. 

*  The  7'y,  yoke,  has  dropped  out  before  7P_,  but  is  preserved 
bySymmachus.  Instead  of  -IDDIIJ,  we  are  pursued,  a  word  like 
"12pp,  is  made  heavy ,  or  )^2^^^ri,  maketh  us  sore,  seems  required  by 
the  context. 


The  Sorrows  of  Death         9 1 

6  To  Egypt  we  give  the  hand. 

And  to  Asshuy,  to  sate  us  with  bread. 

7  Our  fathers  sinned,  and  are  not ; 

And  we  have  borne  their  iniquities. 

8  Over  us  slaves  bear  rule  ; 

From  their  might  there  is  none  to  deliver. 

9  With  our  lives  we  get  us  our  bread, 

In  peril  of  sword  from  the  desert. 

10  Our  skins  glow  as  an  oven, 

Through  the  burning  heat  of  famine. 

it  *  if  * 

13  Our  young  men  must  bear  the  mill  ; 

'Neath  the  wood  our  children  stumble. 

14  Our  old  men  have  left  the  gate  ; 

And  our  young  men  have  ceased  from  their  music. 

1 5  The  joy  of  our  heart  is  gone  ; 

Our  dance  is  turned  into  mourning. 

16  The  crown  is  fallen  from  our  head. 

Ah,  woe!  for  that  we  have  sinned! 

1 7  For  this  is  our  heart  grown  faint  ; 

For  these  things  our  eyes  are  dim. 
*  «  *  « 

19  But  Thou,  Lord,  abidcst  for  ever  ; 

Thy  throne  is  from  age  to  age. 

20  Oh  !  why  forget  us  for  ever. 

And  forsake  us  a  length  of  days  ? 

21  Turn  us,  O  Lord,  that  we  turn  to  Thee  ! 

Renew  our  days  as  of  old  ! 

22  Unless  Thou  hast  wholly  rejected  us. 

So  fierce  is  Thine  anger  against  us  I 

Yet  another  mood  is  reflected  in  ch.  iii.  That 
which  the  suffering  people  had  hardly  dared  to  hope 
for  has  been  accomplished.    The  exiles  have  been 


9  2  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

restored,  and  the  ruined  city  upbuilt.  The  fortunes 
of  Jerusalem  are  still,  indeed,  shrouded  in  gloom 
through  the  relentless  hatred  and  persecution  of 
the  enemy.  But  the  light  that  God  has  shed  on  His 
people  is  the  forecast  of  the  '  perfect  day  '  that  is 
yet  to  dawn.  The  poet  of  Lam.  iii.  reviews  the 
history  of  his  people  under  the  rays  of  this  gladden- 
ing light.  The  '  man  '  that  forms  the  subject  of  the 
elegy  is  either  the  nation  personified,  or  more  pro- 
bably the  poet  himself  uttering  the  universal  sorrow, 
as  the  transition  to  the  plural  in  vv.  4off .  so  strongly 
suggests.  In  either  case,  the  theme  is  the  Divine 
'  leading  '  of  Israel  from  the  days  of  its  youth  on- 
ward. The  elegy  may  lack  the  vivid  colouring 
of  chs.  ii.  and  iv.  Its  tone  is  that,  rather,  of  quiet 
meditation  on  God's  ways.  But  a  singular  sweet- 
ness pervades  the  whole.  Its  gracious  phrases 
haunt  the  mind.  And  the  poet  enters  more  deeply 
into  the  heart  of  God  than  any  of  his  fellows.  In 
spite  of  the  note  of  vengeance  with  which  this  lay 
also  closes,  the  prevailing  thought  of  God  is  that 
of  a  loving  Father,  who  afflicteth  not  from  the  heart, 
but  even  when  He  woundeth  hath  compassion  on 
His  children  *  for  His  fulness  of  love  '  [v.  32). 


1  'Tis  I  thai  have  seen  affliction 

By  the  rod  of  His  wrath. 

2  /  am  the  man  He  hath  led 

Through  murk  without  light. 


The  Sorrows  of  Death         93 

3  Surely  'gainst  me  halh  He  turned 

His  hand  all  the  day. 

4  He  hath  wasted  my  flesh  and  my  skin, 

He  hath  broken  my  bones. 

5  He  hath  massed  up  troubles  against  me. 

He  hath  fenced  round  my  head. 

6  He  hath  made  me  to  dwell  in  darkness. 

Like  the  long-time  dead. 

7  He  hath  walled  me  in  hopeless  imprisonment. 

He  hath  loaded  my  chain. 

8  Though  I  cry,  and  intreat  Him  to  help. 

He  shutteth  His  ears. 

9  He  hath  blocked  up  my  way  with  hewn  stones. 

He  hath  twisted  my  path. 

10  Like  a  skulking  bear  He  laid  wait  for  me, 

As  a  lion  in  its  lurking-place. 

1 1  From  my  path  did  He  drag  me,  and  mangle  ; 

He  left  me  forlorn. 

12  His  bow  He  bent,  and  did  set  me 

As  a  mark  for  His  arrow. 

13  Through  my  reins  did  He  drive  His  shafts. 

The  sons  of  his  quiver. 

14  To  all  peoples  I  prove  a  derision. 

Their  song  all  the  day. 

15  He  hath  sated  my  soul  with  bitterness. 

He  hath  filled  me  with  gall. 

16  He  hath  broken  my  teeth  with  gravel. 

He  hath  heaped  me  with  ashes. 

17  My  soul  hath  He  robbed  of  its  welfare  ; 

All  good  I  forget. 

18  7  said  :  '  My  glory  is  gone, 

And  my  hope  in  Jahweh.' 

19  The  thought  i  of  my  woe  and  forlornness 

Is  wormwood  and  gall. 

1  The  imper.  of  the  Mass.  text  unduly  hastens  the  appeal  to 
Jahweh.     The  poet   is  still  bewaiUng   the   misfortunes  of  his 


94  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

20  My  soul  doth  for  ever  recall  them. 

And  is  cast  down  within  me. 

21  But  these  things'^  I  lay  to  heart. 

And  find  them  my  hope  : — 

22  The  kindness  of  Jahweh  is  constant, 

It  fails  not  for  ever  ; 

23  His  mercies  are  fresh  every  morning. 

Full  is  His  faithfulness. 

24  /  said,  '  My  portion  is  Jahweh.' 

Thus  will  I  trust  Him. 

25  For  Jahweh  is  good  to  the  trustful. 

Even  all  that  seek  Him. 

26  //  is  good  in  patience  to  hope 

For  Jahweh's  salvation. 

27  It  is  good  for  a  man  that  he  bear 

The  yoke  in  his  youth. 

28  Alone  let  him  sit  in  silence, 

When  Jahweh  doth  gird  him  ! 

29  Let  him  lay  his  mouth  in  the  dust — 

There  may  haply  be  hope. 

30  Let  him  yield  his  cheek  to  the  smiter. 

And  be  filled  with  reproach  I 

31  For  Jahweh  will  not  cast  off 

The  afflicted  *  for  ever. 

32  Though  He  wound.  He  will  yet  have  compassion, 

For  His  fulness  of  love. 

33  For  not  from  the  heart  doth  He  humble, 

Nor  wound  mankind. 


people.  Read,  therefore,  the  noun  13t,  remembrance  (Dyserinck , 
Budde,  etc.). 

1  The  reference  here  is  forward.  The  things  he  lays  to  heart 
are  the  mercies  of  Jahweh. 

*  The  hiatus  at  the  close  is  usually  filled  up  by  tJ'''X  ^)2  or  D^X. 
But  a  richer  sense  is  gained  by  reading  ''2V,  a  word  that  might 
easily  have  dropped  out  after  *^1X. 


The  Sorrows  of  Death         9  5 

In  the  following  verses  the  righteousness  of  Jah- 
weh's  reign  is  strongly  asserted.  He  cannot  endure 
the  sight  of  oppression  and  injustice — the  '  crush- 
ing underfoot  of  the  prisoners,'  the  '  wresting  of  a 
man's  rights  before  the  Almighty,'  and  the  '  sub- 
verting the  poor  in  his  cause  ' — still  less  can  His  own 
ways  be  uneven.  If  He  have  laid  His  hand  on  Israel, 
then,  it  must  be  the  due  reward  of  her  wrong-doing. 

39  Then  why  should  mortal  complain 

Of  the  toll  of  his  sins  ? 

40  Let  us  search  our  ways,  and  try  them. 

And  return  to  the  Lord  ! 

41  Let  us  lift  our  hearts  on  our  hands 

To  God  in  the  heavens  I 

42  '  We  have  sinned,  and  rebelled,  and  Thou 

Hast  not  forgiven. 

43  '  Thou  hast  veiled  Thy  face,  and  pursued  us  ; 

Thou  hast  slain  without  pity. 

44  Thou  hast  veiled  Thy  face  with  a  cloud. 

That  no  prayer  could  pass  through. 

45  Thou  hast  made  us  th'  offscouring  and  refuse 

In  the  midst  of  the  peoples. 

46  '  Against  us  have  opened  their  mouths 

Our  enemies  all. 

47  Destruction  and  terror  overwhelm  us. 

Wasting  and  ruin.' 

To  his  people's  mournful  prayer  the  poet  lends 
the  support  of  his  own  tears  for  the  fate  of  Jerusalem. 

48  Mine  eye  runs  with  rivers  of  water 

For  the  wreck  of  my  people. 

40  Mine  eye  pours  down  without  ceasing. 
Finding  no  respite  ; 


96  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

50  Till  Jahweh  look  down,  and  behold 

My  sorrow  from  heaven. 

51  For  'tis  He  that  hath  tortured  my  sout 

With  the  tears  of  my  city. 

Jahweh  has  heard  and  answered  in  days  gone  by ; 
surely  He  will  not  now  be  silent. 

55  /  have  called  on  Thy  name,  0  Lord, 

From  the  depth  of  the  dungeon. 

56  Thou  didst  hear  my  voice.     Oh  !  close  not 

Thine  ear  to  my  cry  ! 
^y  In  the  day  that  I  called,  Thou  earnest; 
Thou  saidst,  '  Have  no  fear  I ' 

58  Thou  didst  plead  the  cause  of  my  soul. 

Thou  redeemedst  my  life. 

59  And  now,  Lord,  my  wrong  Thou  hast  seen  ; 

Uphold  Thou  my  cause ! 

60  Thou  hast  seen  all  their  vengeance  against  me. 

The  plans  they  have  formed. 

61  Thou  hast  heard  their  reproaches,  O  Lord, 

The  shame  they  have  hurled  ^ — 

62  Even  the  words  of  my  foes,  and  their  thoughts. 

Against  me  for  ever. 

63  Watch  Thou  their  sitting  and  rising. 

Their  counsels  against  me  I  ' 

64  Thou  wilt  repay  them,  O  Lord, 

For  the  work  of  their  hands. 

65  Blindness  of  heart  wilt  Thou  bring  them. 

Thy  curse  on  their  heads. 

66  In  wrath  wilt  Thou  chase  and  destroy  them 

From  under  Thy  heavens. 

^  In  the  Hebrew  text  the  second  stichos  is  simply  repeated  from 
the  previous  verse.  The  translation  supplies  what  may  have 
been  the  thought  of  the  original. 

2  Here  again  the  second  stichos  has  been  filled  up  from  another 
context  (v.  14).  The  translation  ofiers  but  a  suggestion  of  the 
original  sequence. 


CHAPTER    VI 

The  Psalter 

The  national  life  of  Israel  has  been  found  bathed  in 
so  pervasive  an  atmosphere  of  devotion  that  their 
triumphal  battle-hymns,  and  in  large  measure  also 
their  popular  songs,  breathe  the  vital  essence  of 
religion.     Their    heart-broken    Lamentations    over 
the  ruin  of  their  city  and  Temple  are  equally  infused 
with  the  spirit  of  humble  resignation,  prayer  and 
trust.    The  main  body  of  Old  Testament  poetry 
turns  yet  more  directly  on  the  praise  of  God,  and 
the  varying  emotions  of  the  devout  soul  in  its  rela- 
tion to  Him.     In  this  region  the  poetry  of  Israel 
is  unique.     There  is  religious  poetry  among  other  [ 
nations — often  far  surpassing  that  of  Israel  in  sus-| 
tained  reflection  on  the  mysteries  of  life,  and  drama- 
tic representations  of  the  conflict  of  the  individual  , 
with  the  inexorable  decrees  of  fate — but  in  no  other  • 
religious  literature  do  we  find  ourselves  in  such  close  , 
and  intimate  touch  with  God.     The  poets  of  Greece: 
and  Babylonia  '  feel  after  God.'     To  the  pure-eyed  1 
seers  of  Israel  He  was  as  luminously  self-evident  I 
a  Being  as  their  own  selves.     In  Him  their  poetry 

7 


9  8  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

'  lives  and  moves,'  and  thrills  and  glows  with  fervid 
emotion.  And  this  vital  contact  with  God  it  is 
which  gives  that  literature  its  perennial  freshness  and 
inspiration.  We  may  know  more  of  the  Eternal 
than  even  the  loftiest  souls  in  Israel.  But  such  was 
the  immediacy  of  their  feeling  of  God,  and  their 
power  to  express  that  feeling,  that  their  lyrical 
utterances  remain  the  classics  of  devotion.  The 
Christian  world  still  gives  voice  to  its  faith  and  hope 
and  joy  in  God  through  the  rapturous  strains  of  the 
*  sweet  singers  of  Israel.'  And  the  best  of  our  hymns 
have  caught  their  glow  at  this  altar. 

Of  this  distinctively  religious  poetry  of  Israel  the 
finest  gems  are  found  in  the  Psalter,  which  has  been 
aptly  described  as  '  the  heart  of  the  Bible  '  ;  for 
what  the  heart  is  in  man — the  welling  fountain  of  his 
feelings  and  imaginations,  his  joys  and  griefs  and 
manifold  cravings  and  aspirations — the  Psalter  is 
in  the  Bible.  Thus  the  Psalter  has  touched  and 
held  the  hearts  of  the  devout  in  all  the  ages.  Here 
heart  speaks  to  heart,  deep  responds  to  deep,  on  the 
great  realities  of  spiritual  life.^ 

1  '  The  human  heart  is  like  a  ship  on  a  wild  sea,  driven  by 
winds  from  all  corners  of  the  world.  .  .  .  And  what  find  we  for 
the  most  part  in  the  Psalter,  but  the  earnest  words  of  men  tossed 
about  by  such  winds  ?  Where  can  one  find  nobler  words  of  joy 
than  the  Psalms  of  praise  and  thanksgiving  contain  ?  In  these 
thou  mayest  gaze  into  the  heart  of  all  the  saints,  as  into  lovely 
pleasure  gardens,  or  into  heaven  itself,  and  see  how  fine,  pleasant, 


The  Psalter  99 

Jewish  tradition  has  Hnked  the  beginnings  of 
Psalmody  with  the  name  of  David.  A  real  basis  of 
fact  would  seem  to  underlie  the  tradition.  In  the 
complex  personality  of  David  the  emotional  sensi- 
bilities that  make  the  poet  formed  a  rich  element. 
He  had  a  true  genius  for  friendship,  and  celebrated 
the  noblest  of  his  friendships  in  immortal  verse. 
But  the  soul  that  was  knit  to  Jonathan's  in  such 
bonds  of  tender  affection  was  inspired  by  no  less 
pure  a  passion  for  his  God.  His  zeal  for  Jahweh  led 
him  to  dance  in  prophetic  ecstasy  before  the  ark. 
And  the  same  ardent  enthusiasm  can  hardly  have 
failed  at  other  times  to  express  itself  in  song.  But 
it  is  now  impossible  to  distinguish  with  any  certainty 
the  Davidic  element  in  the  Psalter.  The  heading 
I'ddvid,  '  of  David,'  is  in  itself  no  definite  criterion 
of  authorship,  but,  like  the  corresponding  titles. 
l^'dsaph,  '  of  Asaph,'  and  libb^ne  Mr  ah,  '  of  the  sons 
of  Korah,'  a  mere  index  of  the  primary  collection 


delightsome  flowers  spring  up  therein  from  all  manner  of  beauti- 
ful, gladsome  thoughts  of  God  because  of  His  goodness.  And, 
again,  where  canst  thou  find  deeper,  more  plaintive  and  heart- 
moving  words  of  sorrow  than  in  the  Psalms  of  lamentation  ? 
There  too  thou  mayest  look  into  the  heart  of  all  the  saints — but 
as  into  death,  or  hell  itself.  How  dark  and  gloomy  all  things 
are  when  the  heart  is  troubled  by  the  sense  of  the  wrath  of  God  ! 
And  so  also  when  they  speak  of  fear  or  hope,  they  use  words  that 
no  painter  could  approach  in  colouring,  or  even  an  orator  like 
Cicero  in  vividness  of  description.' — Luther,  Preface  to  the  Psalter, 
1528. 


loo   The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

from  which  the  Psalm  was  t  aken.  And,  though  the 
original  '  Davidic '  Psalter — the  main  body  of  our 
present  Book  I  ^ —  no  doubt  preserves  strains  of  the 
true  Davidic  melody,  the  older  songs  have  been  so 
thoroughly  revised  and  adapted  to  the  progressive 
needs  of  congregational  worship,  and  later  Psalms 
added  to  such  an  extent,  that  the  prevailing  note  is 
that  of  a  far  later  stage  of  religious  development. 
There  is  no  Psalm,  for  example,  whose  origin  seems 
better  attested,  or  whose  spirit  and  accent  are  more 
in  harmony  with  David's  eager,  enthusiastic,  warlike 
temperament,  than  the  eighteenth;  yet  the  middle 
and  closing  sections  of  the  Psalm  clearly  reflect  the 
religious  ideas  of  the  late  prophetic  age.  The  fine 
Processional,  xxiv.  7ff,,  strikes  the  same  antique  note 
as  the  martial  strains  of  xviii.  3iff.  ;  but  this  too 
has  become  a  mere  appendix  to  a  later  song  of  wor- 
ship. Even  the  sweet  pastoral  (Ps.  xxiii.),  which 
imagination  loves  to  associate  with  the  shepherd- 
king,  in  its  closing  verse  presupposes  the  existence 
of  the  Temple.     It  seems  most  reasonable  to  assign 


*  The  first  two  Psalms  bear  no  note  of  authorship  or  origin. 
They  are  evidently  placed  in  the  forefront  of  the  Psalter  as  a 
species  of  Preface,  suggesting  the  dominant  ideas  of  the  Book. 
Of  the  remaining  Psalms  in  Book  I,  all  are  headed  by  the  title 
Tnp,  except  Ps.  x.,  which  is  clearly  connected  with  the  preceding 
to  form  one  alphabetical  whole,  and  Ps.  xxxiii.,  where  the  open- 
ing verse  is  otherwise  confused.  The originalinp,  attested  by 
LXX,  has  probably  dropped  out  by  mere  accident. 


The   Psalter  loi 

this  and  other  early  Psalms  that  sing  of  the  joy  of 
worship,  and  the  gracious  character  of  the  man  whose 
right  it  is  to  ascend  the  hill  of  God,  and  sojourn  in 
His  Temple — e.g.  Pss.  v.,  xv.,  xxiv.  iff.,  xxvi., 
and  xxvii. — to  some  date  during  the  flourishing 
period  of  the  first  Temple.  And,  on  a  natural  reading 
of  the  text,  the  '  royal  Psalms  '  of  Book  I — the 
prayer  for  the  king  in  xx.  9,  the  celebration  of  the 
king's  joy  and  trust  in  Jahweh  (xxi.  iff.),  and  the 
Psalm  of  salvation  for  Israel  and  Jahweh's  '  an- 
ointed '  (xxviii.  8f .) — fall  within  the  age  of  the  Mon- 
archy. But  a  careful  analysis  of  the  contents  of  the 
Book  carries  us  yet  further  down  the  stream  of  his- 
tory. Thus  the  closing  verse  of  Ps.  xiv.  directly 
implies  the  Exile.  And  the  minor  notes  of  Pss.  vi., 
xi.,  xii.,  and  xiii.  are  certainly  most  in  harmony  with 
the  sorrow  of  that  time.  The  cry  of  the  '  forsaken ' 
spirit  in  Ps.  xxii.  shows  clear  marks  of  dependence 
on  II  Isaiah.  Of  the  Nature-Psalms,  too,  the  lan- 
guage of  both  viii.  3ff.  and  xix.  i  suggests  acquaint- 
ance with  the  Creation  account  in  Gen.  i.,  while 
the  framework  of  Ps.  xxix.,  that  Song  of  truly 
elemental  grandeur  and  tempestuous  energy,  is  cast 
in  a  mould  of  quiet  '  priestly  '  dignity  and  beauty. 
The  acrostic  form  of  Pss.  ix.,  x.,  xxv.,  xxxiv.,  and 
xxxvii.  points  to  an  age  of  developed  reflection  on 
the  ways  of  God  and  man.  And  the  profound  reli- 
gious thought  of  '  problem  Psalms  '  like  xvi.  lof.. 


I02  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

xvii.    I4f.,   and  xxxvii.,  with    the    '  confessional ' 
accents  of  Ps.  xxxii.,  tend  in  the  same  direction. 

The  completion  of  the  first  '  Davidic  '  Psalter, 
then,  must  be  dated  somewhat  after  the  Restoration 
under  Ezra  and  Nehemiah.  The  Psalms  included 
in  the  Collection  are  almost  all  described  by  the 
title  of  mizmor  or  '  lyric'  ^  The  description  is  apt ; 
for  these  old  '  Psalms  of  David  '  have  the  true 
lyrical  ring.  They  are  mainly  the  effusions  of  strong 
personal  feeling.  And  they  touch  a  wide  variety  of 
moods.  In  richness  of  compass,  indeed,  no  later 
Collection  approaches  them.  They  range  from  the 
depths  of  almost  despairing  appeal  to  God  against 
the  persecutions  of  the  wicked  (v.,  vi.,  vii,,  etc.)  to 
quiet  confidence  in  the  sustaining  love  of  Jahweh 
(iii.,  iv.,  etc.),  and  trust  in  the  leading  of  the  good 
Shepherd   and   Friend   (xxiii.),   triumphant   joy  in 

*  The  word  mizmdr  is  derived  from  the  verb  zimmer,  '  play 
the  harp,'  and  thus  means  Uterally  '  a  song  with  musical  accom- 
paniment.' It  is  the  general  term  for  Psalm  throughout  the 
Psalter.  In  addition  to  this  title,  however,  Ps.  xvi.  is  described 
as  a  mikhtam,  probably  '  golden  ode  '  (from  kethem,  '  gold  ')  ; 
Ps.  xvii.  as  a  t^phillah,  or  '  prayer,'  an  outpouring  of  the  heart 
to  God  ;  and  Ps.  xxxvii.  as  a  maskil,  most  probably  '  medita- 
tion '  (from  the  verb  sdkhal,  'to  consider').  These  terms  are 
to  be  met  with  repeatedly  in  later  sections  of  the  Psalter.  A  fur- 
ther title,  confined  to  Book  I,  is  the  shiggdydn  of  Ps.  vii.,  which 
still  awaits  a  satisfactory  explanation.  Ewald,  Delitzsch,  and 
other  scholars  connect  the  word  with  shdghdh,  '  to  wander,'  and 
describe  the  Psalm  as  a  '  dithyrambic  poem  ; '  but  this  is  quite 
at  variance  with  the  character  of  the  Psalm 


The  Psalter  103 

Jahweh,  the  '  Lord  of  Battle-hosts  *  (xviii.  3iff., 
xxiv.  yfi.),  and  love  for  His  house  and  Law  (xv., 
xix.  yfi.,  xxiv.  iff.,  xxv.,  xxvii.,  etc.),  awe-struck 
reverence  before  the  glory  of  God  revealed  in  the 
starry  heavens,  the  splendour  of  the  sunshine,  and 
the  majesty  of  the  thunder-storm  (viii.,  xix.  iff., 
xxix.),  rapturous  delight  in  God's  forgiving  love, 
and  the  '  height  and  depth  '  of  His  tender  mercies 
and  His  faithfulness  (xxxii.,  xxxiv.,  xxxvi.  5ff.) 
until  we  reach  at  length  the  mountain-tops  whence 
are  caught  the  first  bright  gleams  of  immortal  glory 
(xvi.  lof.,  xvii,  I4f.). 

In  the  course  of  the  next  century  a  second  '  David- 
ic  '  Collection  was  compiled — the  so-called  '  prayers 
of  David  '  now  incorporated  as  Pss.  li.-lxxii.  in  the 
Second  Book  of  the  Psalter.  The  elements  forming 
this  Collection  are  drawn  in  part  from  the  contents 
of  the  older  Book,  the  portrait  of  the  '  fool '  in  Ps. 
liii.  being  but  a  slightly-altered  recension  of  Ps.  xiv., 
and  the  cry  for  deliverance  in  Ps.  Ixx.  parallel  to 
the  prayer  that  closes  Ps.  xl.,  while  the  opening 
bars  of  Ps.  Ixxi.  are  a  simple  variant  of  Ps.  xxxi. 
1-3.  But  the  bulk  of  the  Book  consists  of  new 
Psalms,  under  various  titles.  On  the  whole,  these 
Psalms  are  of  later  origin  than  those  of  the  earlier 
Collection.  Their  note,  too,  is  more  uniform.  In- 
termingled with  others  are  a  few  bright  '  lyrics  ' 
of  the  regal  period  (Ixi.,  Ixii.),  with  '  meditations  ' 


I04  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

on  the  mysteries  of  Providence  that  seem  still  to 
presuppose  the  existence  of  the  Temple  (Hi.,  liv., 
Iv.),  and  '  odes  '  of  triumphant  confidence  in  Jahweh 
(Ivii.  7ff.,lx.  5ff.).  But  the  general  tone  reflects  the 
subdued  and  sorrowful  mood  of  the  Exile.  The 
accents  of  penitence  in  that  most  searching,  of  all 
Psalms  of  confession,  Ps.  li.,  remind  us  constantly 
of  Ezekiel  and  Deutero-Isaiah.  And  the  broken 
cries  for  mercy,  and  help  against  the  swords  of  the 
enemy,  blending  with  plaintive  appeals  to  God  to 
turn  from  His  wrath,  and  restore  the  people  He 
had  *  cast  off  and  ravaged  '  (Ivii.  iff.,  Iviii.,  lix., 
Ix.  iff.,  Ixiii.,  Ixiv.,  Ixix.,  Ixx.),  are  the  natural  utter- 
ances of  the  children  of  affliction  these  prophets 
sought  to  comfort.  But  the  Book  closes  not  without 
the  ringing  notes  of  joy  that  hail  the  Restoration  and 
rebuilding  of  the  Temple,  and  herald  the  still  gladder 
day  when  God's  saving  grace  shall  be  known  over 
all  the  earth,  and  the  nations  shall  unite  in  worship- 
ping and  praising  Him  (Ixv.,  Ixvi.,  Ixvii.,  Ixviii.), 
when  the  true  King  shall  arise  to  hold  dominion  and 
shed  blessing  '  from  sea  to  sea,  from  the  river  even 
to  the  ends  of  the  earth  '  (Ixxii.).i 

In  the  meantime  fresh  Collections  of  sacred  song 
were  grouping  themselves  round  the  priestly  names 

1  In  its  original  cast,  Ps.  Ixxii.  was  perhaps  an  accession  Ode 
in  honour  of  one  of  the  later  kings  of  Judah.  But  this  old  Song 
has  been  expanded  into  a  real  Messianic  Psalm. 


The  Psalter  105 

of  Asaph  and  '  the  sons  of  Korah.'  *  These  Psalms 
are  distinguished  by  a  loftiness  and  dignity  of  tone, 
and  a  joyous  pride  in  Zion  and  its  Temple,  which 
well  accord  with  this  association.  Of  the  songs  and 
'  meditations  '  of  Korah,  Ps.  xlv.  is  a  royal  marriage- 
ode,  celebrating  the  nuptials  probably  of  one  of  the 
later  kings  of  Judah  ;  Pss.  xlvi.,  xlvii.  and  xlviii. 
are  hymns  of  exultant  praise  to  God  in  honour  of 
some  such  act  of  '  salvation  '  as  the  deliverance 
from  Sennacherib's  grande  armee  ;  Pss.  xlii.,  xliii. 
read  like  the  '  last  sigh  '  of  a  priestly  exile  swept 
in  the  train  of  King  Jehoiachin  beyond  the  '  district 
of  Jordan  and  the  Hermons  '  to  the  land  that  was 
unclean ;  Ps.  xliv.  depicts  the  full  horror  of  the 
desolation  of  Jerusalem  ;  and  Ps.  xlix,  raises  anew, 
and  carries  to  a  sharper  issue,  the  great  problem 
of  the  sufferings  of  the  righteous.  The  bulk  of 
the  Psalms  of  Asaph  strike  yet  deeper  notes  of 
sorrow.    The  mournful  wails  of  the  racked  and 


*  Of  these  priestly  Collections,  the  Korah  group  forms  a  con- 
nected whole  (Pss.  xlii.-xlix.).  The  Asaph  Psalter,  on  the  other 
hand,  has  become  dislocated  through  the  intrusion  of  the  '  prayers 
of  David.'  Only  Ps.  1.  belongs  to  Book  II,  the  remaining  mem- 
bers of  the  group  (Pss.  Ixxiii.-lxxxiii.)  opening  the  Third  Book. 
The  majority  of  scholars  follow  Ewald  in  supposing  that  the 
'  prayers  of  David  '  have  been  arbitrarily  transferred  from  their 
original  place  in  the  forefront  of  Book  II.  The  present  order, 
however,  may  show  an  approach  to  the  chronological  relation  of 
the  groups,  the  Psalms  of  Korah  and  the  first  of  the  Asaph  Collec- 
tion being,  on  the  whole,  earlier  than  the  '  prayers.' 


io6  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

ravished  people,  and  their  plaintive  questionings 
of  the  Why  ?  and  How  long  ?  of  their  affliction 
(Pss.  Ixxiv.,  Ixxvii.,  Ixxix.,  Ixxxiii.),  ring  in  the 
ear  like  a  death-knell.  But  major  notes  pierce 
through  the  grief.  God  had  been  good  to  His  people 
in  the  days  of  old.  Therefore  He  could  not  abandon 
them  for  ever.  Only  let  Him  put  forth  His  hand, 
and  smite  the  heathen,  and  all  of  them  would  be 
'  ashamed  and  dismayed  for  ever,'  and  the  nations 
would  learn  that  Jahweh  alone  was  '  Most  High 
over  all  the  earth  '  (Pss.  Ixxvi.,  Ixxviii.,  Ixxxi., 
Ixxxiii.  I7fi.).^ 

A  significant  feature  of  these  three  groups  is  the 
predominance  of  the  Divine  name  'Elohim,  or  '  God.' 

^  The  four  Psalms,  xliv.,  Ixxiv.,  Ixxix.,  Ixxxiii.,  have  by  a  large 
consensus  of  opinion,  both  ancient  and  modern,  been  assigned 
to  the  Maccabean  period.  There  are  various  features  in  these 
Psalms  which  are  in  striking  harmony  with  the  tragic  circum- 
stances of  that  age — e.g.  the  profanation  of  the  Temple  by  the 
enemy's  standards,  the  destruction  of  the  synagogues,  the  cessa- 
tion of  prophecy,  and  the  proud  conscience  of  the  afflicted  nation. 
It  is  very  difficult,  however,  to  explain  the  appearance  of  '  Macca- 
bean '  Psalms  in  the  Collections  of  Asaph  and  Korah.  And  the 
difficulty  has  been  intensified  since  the  discovery  of  the  original 
Hebrew  of  the  Wisdom  of  Ben  Sira,  with  its  almost  certain  allu- 
sions to  Pss.  xUv.  and  Ixxiv.  (cf.  Sir.  xlvi.  ii  with  Ps.  xliv.  i8 
and  Sir.  xxxvi.  6£f.  with  Ps.  Ixxiv.  gff.).  Dr.  Briggs  has  made 
it  very  probable  that  the  main  suggestions  of  Maccabean  author- 
ship are  later  elements  in  the  Psalms.  It  seems  best  to  regard 
them,  therefore,  as  voices  from  the  Exile,  which  have  received 
certain  '  Maccabean '  tones  in  the  course  of  the  final  revision  of 
the  Psalter. 


The  Psalter  107 

It  is  evident,  however,  from  a  comparison  of  the 
various  parallel  Psalms  in  the  two  '  Davidic  '  Psal- 
ters, as  well  as  from  such  combinations  as  'Elohim 
'elohenu,  '  God,  our  God,'  and  'Elohim  g^hdoth,  *  God 
of  hosts,'  and  other  dubious  contexts,  that  the  'Elohim 
is  redactional,  and  no  vital  element  in  the  original 
Psalms.  As  the  name  is  equally  characteristic  of  the 
Priestly  Code,  the  Books  of  Chronicles,  and  Ecclesi- 
astes,  the  formation  of  the  Elohistic  Psalter  falls 
doubtless  within  the  same  general  period.  The 
distribution  of  the  Psalms  between  Asaph  and  the 
'  sons  of  Korah '  defines  the  date  more  narrowly. 
The  only  guild  of  Temple  singers  in  the  first  century 
after  the  Restoration,  as  late  as  the  age  of  Ezra  and 
Nehemiah,  consisted  of  the  '  sons  of  Asaph  '  (Ezra 
ii.  41 ;  Neh.  vii.  44,  etc.).  In  the  subsequent 
period  the  Korahites  were  added  ;  but  by  the  time 
of  the  Chronicler  these  had  become  porters  or  door- 
keepers, their  former  function  as  *  singers  '  passing 
to  the  families  of  Heman  and  Ethan  (i  Chron.  xv. 
I7ff.).  The  Elohistic  Psalter  would  thus  belong  to 
the  fourth  century. 

The  rest  of  Book  III  is  filled  by  a  further  gleaning 
of  Psalms  of  David  and  the  '  sons  of  Korah,'  with  a 
slight  intermixture  from  Heman  and  Ethan  (Pss. 
Ixxxiv.-lxxxix.),  all  of  them  free  from  the  Elohistic 
redaction.  The  tone  of  these  Psalms  is  in  close  har- 
mony with  that  of  the  preceding.     Here,  too,  the 


io8  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

cry  of  the  afflicted  is  heard.  But  hope  has  risen 
amid  the  darkness.  To  this  small  group  belong  the 
sweet  Pilgrim  Psalm  on  the  loveliness  of  the  restored 
Temple  (Ps.  Ixxxiv.),  the  glorious  hymn  in  which 
mercy  and  truth  unite  their  voices,  while  righteous- 
ness and  peace  kiss  each  other,  truth  springing  up 
from  the  earth,  and  righteousness  looking  down  from 
heaven  (Ps.  Ixxxv.  gff.),  and  the  dazzling  prophetic 
vision  of  Jerusalem  as  the  mother-city  of  a  universal 
kingdom  of  God,  with  Egypt  and  Babylonia,  Philis- 
tia  and  Tyre  and  Ethiopia,  among  those  that  know 
and  worship  Him  (Ps.  Ixxxvii.). 

Out  of  the  mass  of  extant  Psalmody  a  selection 
now  appears  to  have  been  made,  entitled  lam- 
m^naQgedh,  the  Precentor's  or  Choirmaster's  Psalter. 
As  the  headlines  show,  the  large  majority  of  the 
Psalms  of  Asaph  and  the  '  sons  of  Korah,'  with  fully 
half  of  the  '  Davidic  '  Books,  contributed  to  this 
Collection.  The  musical  notes  that  distinguish  so 
many  of  the  earlier  Psalms  apparently  came  from 
the  Choirmaster.  In  part,  these  suggest  the  tunes 
to  which  the  Psalms  were  set.  As  has  been  already 
observed,  the  best  of  the  old  folk-songs  were  drawn 
to  the  service  of  religion,  and  hymns  in  honour  of 
God  were  freely  sung  to  the  melodies  of  The  Hind 
of  the  Morning,  The  Lilies,  The  Dove  of  the  Distant 
Terebinths,  and  Die  for  the  Son — in  the  same  joyous 
spirit  as  revival  songs  are  still  sometimes  raised  to 


The   Psalter  109 

the  tune  of  Auld  Lang  Syne  or  Robin  Adair.  In 
part,  too,  the  musical  headings  relate  to  the  instru- 
mental accompaniment  of  the  Psalms.  From  these 
it  is  evident  that  Psalms  were  usually  tuned  to  the 
joyous  notes  of  '  stringed  instruments ' — harp  or 
lyre — ^though  Ps.  v.  was  probably  accompanied  by 
the  flute  or  pipe.  The  apparent  references  in  Pss. 
xii.  and  xlvi.  to  the  bass  and  treble  octaves  have 
been  adduced  as  indications  of  at  least  the  begin- 
nings of  harmony.  But  the  whole  subject  of  Temple 
music  is  still  veiled  in  much  obscurity.^ 

The  seldh  which  divides  the  stanzas  of  many  such 
Psalms  has  been  the  subject  of  considerable  discus- 
sion. Seldh  is  most  probably  the  emphatic  imper- 
ative of  sdlal,  '  raise '  or  '  strike  up,'  and  apparently 
denotes  some  form  of  interlude  in  the  rendering  of  the 
Psalms.  The  Septuagint  translates  by  Bid\(ra\fia, 
which  is  usually  understood  as  a  musical  interlude. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  tradition  in  Jewish  circles,  as 
represented  by  the  Targums,  interprets  the  term  as 
equivalent  to  P'oldm,  *  for  ever.'  Aquila,  Jerome, 
and  other  ancient  translators  follow  the  same  line, 
Jerome  further  comparing  it  with  the  closing  Amen  of 
Jewish  and  Christian  hymns.  This  would  suggest  that 
the  seldh  was  a  liturgical  note,  marking  the  point  where 
the  worshippers  raised  the  united  ascription, '  Blessed 
be  Jahweh,  God  of  Israel,  from  everlasting  to  ever- 
»  Cf.  ch.  iii. 


no  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

lasting,  Amen  and  Amen '  (Ps.  xli.  13),  or  some 
similar  burst  of  praise.  If  we  must  decide  between 
the  two  interpretations,  the  latter  is  certainly  sup- 
ported by  the  balance  of  traditional  evidence,  be- 
sides being  more  in  harmony  with  the  ritual  of  the 
Temple.  As  we  have  seen,  however,  such  ascriptions 
of  praise  were  rung  out  by  players  and  singers  in 
unison.  At  the  dedication  of  the  Temple,  according 
to  the  Chronicler  (2  Chron.  v.  13),  all  together  made 
*  one  sound,'  as  they  blew  the  trumpets  and  sounded 
forth  the  Benediction,  '  Praise  Jahweh,  for  He  is 
good  ;  for  His  mercy  endureth  for  ever.'  The  litur- 
gical expression  introduced  by  the  seldh  may  thus 
have  been  a  full-toned  Doxology,  both  vocal  and 
instrumental,  like  the  modern  Gloria  Patri  or  re- 
peated Amen  rendered  by  combined  organ  and 
choir.  ^ 

With  the  increasing  interest  in  worship  that 
followed  the  Restoration,  fresh  Collections  of  sacred 
song  continued  to  be  formed.  The  most  attractive 
of  these  consists  of  the  fifteen  charming  lyrics  entitled 

1  The  question  is  thoroughly  canvassed  in  the  various  Com- 
mentaries on  the  Psalms,  as  well  as  in  articles  in  the  Diet,  of  the 
Bible  and  the  Ency.  Blblica.  One  of  the  freshest,  fullest,  and 
sanest  treatments  of  the  subject  is  to  be  found  in  Briggs'Psa/ms, 
I.  Ixxxiv.ff.  (following  up  his  earlier  studies  in  the  Journal  of 
Biblical  Literature,  etc.),  Briggs  argues  strongly  in  favour  of  the 
liturgical  view,  Haupt  has  recently  worked  out  the  original  sug- 
gestion of  Jacob  that  seldh  is  rather  the  summons  to  '  reverential 
prostration '  {Expos.  Times,  xxii.  3748.). 


The  Psalter 


III 


*  Songs  of  Ascents '  (Pss.  cxx.-cxxxiv.) — most 
probably  Pilgrim  Songs  sung  by  the  joyful  bands 
that  wended  their  way  to  Jerusalem,  to  take  part 
in  the  three  great  festivals  of  the  people.  These 
Songs  are  of  different  date  and  origin,  though  all 
tuned  to  the  same  sweet  elegiac  key.  Here,  too, 
voices  are  heard  '  out  of  the  depths  '  of  suffering 
and  anxiety  (Pss.  cxx.,  cxxiii.,  cxxx.,  cxxxii.).  But 
for  the  most  part  they  are  full  of  the  joy  of  redemp- 
tion. The  Psalms  ring  with  laughter  as  they  sing 
of  Israel's  escape  from  the  fowlers'  snare,  and  the 
wondering  recognition  by  the  heathen  of  the  '  great 
things  '  Jahweh  has  done  for  them  (cxxiv.,  cxxvi.). 
In  a  tone  of  quiet  delight,  again,  they  compare  the 
security  of  those  that  trust  in  Jahweh  with  the 
impregnable  strength  of  the  mountains  round  Jeru- 
salem (cxxi.,  cxxv.).  As  befits  their  name,  the 
Pilgrim  Songs  touch  their  highest  note  when  they 
proclaim  the  glory  of  Jerusalem,  recalling  the  blissful 
moment  when  the  pilgrims'  feet  actually  stood  within 
the  holy  gates,  and  invoking  the  blessing  of  Jahweh 
upon  the  city  and  her  children  (Ps.  cxxii.).  But 
with  a  tender  joy  they  dwell  likewise  on  the  pleasures 
of  family  life,  and  the  refreshing  grace  and  fragrance 
of  brotherly  unity  (cxxvii.,  cxxviii.,  cxxxiii.).  The 
exquisite  gems  of  imagery  with  which  these  Psalms 
are  studded  add  to  their  winsomeness — the  whole 
Collection  yielding  us  the  most  pleasing  impression 


112  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

of  the  simple,  gracious  piety  of  the  Israel  of  the  later 
ages. 

In  addition  to  the  Pilgrim  Songs,  the  closing 
Books  of  the  Psalter  have  preserved  the  Hallel  gvonp 
(Pss.  ciii.,  civ.,  cxi.-cviii.),  chanted  by  the  Jews  at 
the  festivals  to  which  the  pilgrim  bands  '  went  up/ 
as  well  as  on  the  night  of  the  Passover ;  a  further 
Hallel  or  Hallelujah  Collection  (Pss.  cxlvi.-cl.), 
whose  liturgical  place  is  more  uncertain ;  a  group  of 
'  new  songs,'  somewhat  loosely  connected  under  the 
idea  of  Jahweh's  righteous  reign  (xciii.-c.) ;  the 
Hodu,  or  '  Give  praise  to  Jahweh,'  Collection  (cv.- 
cvii.) ;  a  third  cycle  of  so-called  '  Davidic '  lyrics 
(cxxxviii.-cxlv.)  ;  with  various  isolated  Psalms,  like 
the  '  prayer  '  to  Jahweh  the  Eternal  (Ps.  xc),  the 
song  of  Jahweh's  protective  grace  (Ps.  xci.),  the 
'  sweetly  monotonous  '  acrostic  in  praise  of  the  Law 
(Ps.  cxix.),  and  the  plaint  of  the  heart-sick  exile 
'  by  the  waters  of  Babylon  '  which  breaks  into  such 
fiery  indignation  against  the  oppressor  (Ps.  cxxxvii.). 

The  general  stand-point  of  these  Psalms  is  late. 
There  are  no  doubt  survivals  from  an  earlier  date. 
Thus  Ps.  cviii.  is  a  mere  welding  together  of  two  old 
'  prayers  of  David.'  And  the  hot  flames  of  Ps. 
cxxxvii.  7ff.  almost  certainly  burst  from  the  very 
furnace  of  the  Babylonian  Exile.  But  the  ritualistic 
colouring  of  the  great  majority  of  these  Psalms, 
their  highly  spiritual  conceptions  of  the  Eternal, 


The    Psalter  113 

their  smooth  and  conventional  phraseology,  the 
numerous  Aramaisms,  and  the  general  dependence 
on  the  earlier  Books,  stamp  them  as  products  of  the 
piety  of  the  late  Persian  and  Greek  eras.  A  few 
despairing  utterances  of  grief  like  Pss.  cii.,  cix.,  and 
the  quartette  cxl.-cxliii.,  may  well  belong  to  the 
dark  period  of  Syrian  oppression  which  immediately 
preceded  the  Maccabean  age  ;  the  triumphal  notes 
of  Pss.  cii.  I2ff.  and  cxviii.  may  herald  the  glorious 
dawn  of  that  new  day  of  Israel's  history  ;  while  the 
second  Hallel  group  (Pss.  cxlv.-cl.)  very  probably 
owes  its  origin  to  the  new  enthusiasm  for  worship 
that  followed  the  dedication  of  the  Temple  by  Judas 
Maccabeus,  after  its  desecration  by  the  Syrian  army 
(B.C.  165),  though  certain  elements  in  the  group 
may  belong  to  a  slightly  older  date.^ 

1  The  suggestion  of  '  Maccabean  '  Psalms  was  first  made  by 
Theodore  of  Mopsuestia,  who,  while  adhering  to  the  accepted 
dogma  of  Davidic  authorship,  regarded  seventeen  Psalms  as 
'  prophetic '  of  the  Maccabean  struggles.  His  true  exegetical 
successor,  Calvin,  directly  assigned  to  the  Maccabean  era  the 
three  Psalms  of  suffering  and  bloodshed,  xliv.,  Ixxiv.,  and  Ixxix. 
The  theory  was  taken  up,  and  extended  along  bolder  lines,  by 
scholars  like  Rudinger,  Bengel,  Hitzig,  and  Olshausen.  But 
the  climax  was  not  reached  until  Duhm,  and  more  recently  R.  H. 
Kennett,  in  his  article  on  '  Psalms  '  in  the  new  edition  of  the  Encyc. 
Brit.,  pronounced  practically  the  whole  Psalter,  even  including 
Book  I,  to  be  an  expression  of  the  intense,  though  narrow,  piety 
of  the  Maccabean  age.  That  Psalms  continued  to  be  composed 
till  long  after  the  Maccabean  struggles  is  evident  from  the  exist- 
ence of  the  '  Psalter  of  Solomon,'  a  Collection  of  religious  lays 
voicing  the  troubles  and  sorrows  of  the  persecution  under  Pom- 

S 


114  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

The  completion  of  the  Psalter  appears  to  be  con- 
nected with  the  same  great  awakening  of  the  national 
spirit.  The  Son  of  Sirach,  who  flourished  about 
the  year  i8o,  is  no  doubt  acquainted  with  Psalms 
of  David.  In  his  Praise  of  Famous  Men  (xlvii.  8) 
he  celebrates  David  as  a  singer  of  songs  in  honour  of 
God  Most  High ;  while  his  Wisdom  is  largely 
steeped  in  the  feeling  and  language  of  the  Psalms. 
But  the  Book  had  not  yet  been  elevated  to  a  place 

pey  the  Great  (c.  63-48  B.C.),  and  the  recently  discovered  Syriac 
'  Odes  of  Solomon,'  which,  on  any  view  of  their  origin,  bring  us 
beyond  the  middle  of  the  first  Christian  century.  But  the  whole 
tone  of  these  latter  Collections  is  so  different  from  the  simple  piety 
of  the  Psalms  that  a  considerable  gulf  of  time  must  separate  them. 
The  relation  of  i  Chron.  xvi.  Sff.tothe  three  Psalms  of  which  it  is 
woven  is  still  too  uncertain  to  base  reliable  arguments  upon.  But 
the  witness  of  the  Wisdom  of  Ben  Sira  does  appear  to  bear  strongly 
against  the  extreme  view.  This  evidence  was  forcibly  urged  in 
Ehrt's  early  thesis  on  the  Abfassitvgszeit  tind  Abschluss  des  Psalters 
(1869),  and  has  certainly  not  lost  in  importance  since  the  discovery 
of  the  original  Hebrew  of  Ben  Sira.  In  the  Introduction  to  his 
edition  of  the  Hebrew  text,  Schechter  catalogues  the  various 
allusions  he  finds  in  Ben  Sira  to  the  Books  of  the  Old  Testament, 
including  some  seventy  parallels  with  the  Psalter,  in  all  its  parts. 
The  impression  borne  in  upon  his^mind  by  the  study  of  these  paral- 
lels '  is  that  of  reading  the  work  of  a  post-canonical  author,  who 
already  knew  his  Bible  and  was  constantly  quoting  it  '  {Wisdojn 
of  Ben  Sira,  p.  26).  The  whole  question  has  been  subjected  to 
fresh,  careful  review  by  Kemper  Fullerton  in  a  series  of  '  Studies 
in  the  Psalter  '  {Biblical  World,  Sept.,  1910,  and  following  num- 
bers), with  the  result  that  dependence  is  shown,  not  merely  on 
Pss.  xliv.  and  Ixxiv.,  but  even  on  cxlvii.  The  existence  of  Macca- 
bean  Psalms  cannot  be  categorically  denied.  But  the  question 
should  at  least  be  handled  with  caution,  and  such  Psalms  sought 
onlv  in  the  latest  sections  of  the  Psalter. 


The  Psalter  115 

of  honour  alongside  of  the  Law  and  Prophets.  When 
Ben  Sira's  grandson,  however,  penned  the  famous 
Preface  to  his  translation  of  the  Wisdom,  some  few 
years  after  132  B.C.,  the  Psalter  appears  to  have  been 
not  merely  accepted  within  the  Canon,  but  even 
translated  into  Greek.  The  Book  will  thus  have 
been  completed  about  the  middle  of  the  second  cen- 
tury, most  probably  during  the  renaissance  that 
marked  the  brilliant  reign  of  Simon  the  Maccabee. 
In  their  final  form  the  Psalms  are  arranged  in  five 
Books — a  poetical  counterpart  to  the  five  Books  of 
Moses,  as  Jewish  tradition  loved  to  regard  them. 
The  old  Psalter  of  David  maintained  its  place  as 
Book  I  ;  the  Elohistic  Psalms  were  divided  at  the 
close  of  the  '  prayers  of  David  '  ;  while  the  miscel- 
laneous groups  of  the  later  period  were  gathered 
into  two  Books,  by  a  sharp  cleavage  of  the  Hodu 
Psalms.  The  titles  which  formerly  stood  at  the 
head  of  separate  Collections  were  then  distributed 
over  the  individual  Psalms,  and  various  notices 
indicating  the  probable  occasions  of  their  inspiration 
added  from  the  Books  of  Samuel.  Other  new  head- 
ings relate  to  the  liturgical  associations  of  different 
Psalms.  Thus  the  song  of  salvation  (Ps.  xxx.)  is 
specially  set  apart  for  '  the  dedication  of  the  House ' 
— doubtless  the  joyful  restoration  of  Temple  wor- 
ship under  Judas  Maccabeus.  Ps.  xcii.  is  the  Sab- 
bath song.     Two  other  Psalms,  xxxiii.  and  Ixx.,  are 


1 1 6  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

assigned  l^hazkir,  i.e.  most  probably,  to  the  'azkdrd, 
or  offering  up  of  incense,  and  Ps.  c.  iHhodah,  to  the 
sacrifice  of  thanksgiving.  By  the  prefixing  of  Pss. 
i.,  ii. — which  celebrate  the  happiness  of  the  man  who 
walks  in  the  law  of  the  Lord,  and  the  impregnable 
might  and  glory  of  the  kingdom  of  God — a  key-note 
is  given  to  the  Psalter.  The  first  four  Books  end 
with  Doxologies  ;  and  the  complete  Collection  closes 
with  the  full  outburst  of  praise  in  Ps.  cl.  The  Book 
is  thus  fittingly  described  as  sepher  fhillim — ^the 
*  Praise  Book  '  of  the  Jewish  people.  Our  '  Psalter  ' 
is  a  simple  derivative  of  the  Septuagint's  ylrakTrjpiov, 
or  *  Harp  ' — a  metonymous  term  for  Praise  exactly 
parallel  with  the  '  Harp  of  the  Covenant '  or  the 
Lyra  Apostolica. 

The  Psalter  is  thus  a  rich  Anthology  of  the  purest 
expressions  of  Israel's  prayer  and  praise.  For  the 
most  part,  the  individual  Psalms  touch  the  chords 
of  true  personal  feeling.  But  at  times  the  poet 
identifies  himself  so  completely  with  his  people  that 
the  '  I  '  is  virtually  the  heart  of  the  community 
uttering  itself  through  his  words.  Even  in  the 
original  '  Davidic  '  Book,  for  example,  the  trium- 
phant notes  of  Ps.  xviii.  rise  towards  the  close  far 
beyond  the  individual  range  of  feeling,  while  the 
sorrows  of  the  '  worm  '  in  Ps.  xxii.,  combined  with 
the  world-wide  glory  that  shines  out  upon  his  griefs, 
acquire  a  worthier  meaning  if  read,  like  the  corre- 


The  Psalter  117 

spending  parts  of  Deutero-Isaiah,  of  the  sufferings 
and  future  exaltation  of  the  afflicted  community. 
Of  the  later  Psalms,  the  plaintive  '  prayers '  lix., 
Ixi.,  Ixii.,  Ixvi.,  Ixix.,  etc.  virtually  identify  the 
sufferer  with  Israel.  In  the  opening  verse  of  Ps. 
cxxix.  Israel  is  directly  introduced  as  the  speaker. 
But  so  easily  did  the  imagination  of  Hebrew  poets 
and  prophets  glide  from  individual  experience  to  the 
larger  life  of  the  whole,  that  much  else  which  appears 
distinctively  personal  to  the  Western  mind,  especi- 
ally in  the  closing  Books,  whose  interest  is  so  largely 
national  and  Churchly,  may  be  the  real  outflow  of 
communal  feeling.  * 

1  The  collective  view  is  already  reflected  in  the  LXX,  and 
openly  taught  by  many  of  the  Rabbis,  including  Raschi,  Aben 
Ezra,  and  Kimhi.  The  Church  Fathers  also  interpreted  the 
'  I '  allegorically  as  the  voice  of  the  Christian  community.  With 
the  restoration  of  sound  exegetical  methods  under  Luther  and 
Calvin,  the  individual  view  came  generally  to  prevail.  Ap- 
proaches to  a  wider  standpoint  were  made  by  Rudinger,  Heng- 
stenberg,  and  Reuss  ;  but  the  first  to  base  the  '  communal '  idea 
on  scientific  principle  was  Olshausen,  who  introduced  the  now 
prevalent  conception  of  the  Psalter  as  the  '  Hymn-book  of  the 
Jewish  Community.'  This  gave  Smend  the  impulse  to  his  epoch- 
making  article  on  "  the  '  I '  of  the  Psalms,"  in  the  ZATW.  for 
1888,  pp.  49ff.  Here  Smend  examines  each  Psalm  in  detail,  and 
arrives  at  the  conclusion  that  the  '  I '  is  invariably  no  mere 
individual,  but  the  community  expressing  itself  as  a  personified 
unit.  The  keenness  and  sweep  of  Smend' s  analysis  made  an 
extraordinary 'impression  on  the  scholarship  of  the  age.  His  con- 
clusion was  largely  accepted  without  reserve.  And  scholars  like 
Robertson  Smith  and  Cheyne  admitted  that,  to  a  considerable 
extent  at  least,  '  the  psalmists  speak,  not  as  individuals,  but  in 
the  name  of  the  Church-nation  '  (Cheyne,  Origin  of  the  Psalter, 


1 1 8  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

The  literary  quality  of  the  Psalter  varies  with  its 
mood.  There  are  utterances  of  gloom  and  depres- 
sion that  hardly  rise  from  the  depths.  And  many 
of  the  later  Psalms  are  stiff  and  stereotyped  in 
expression,  often  mere  centos  from  older  songs.  In 
general,  the  language  is  simple  and  natural ;  for  the 
Psalms  represent  mainly  the  feelings  of  the  common 
worshipper.  But  when  inspired  by  devout  imagina- 
tion or  holy  wrath,  they  are  lit  up  by  the  glow  of 
genuine  poetry.  The  more  lyrical  parts  of  the 
Psalter — e.g.  the  many-toned  '  Psalms  of  David,' 
the  joyful  Pilgrim  Songs,  and  the  lofty  patriotic 
odes  of  Asaph  and  the  '  sons  of  Korah  ' — are  alive 
with  spiritual  freshness,  vigour,  and  fire,  and  radiant 
with  colour  and  imagery.  Even  the  conventional 
notes  of  the  later  Books,  the  '  new  songs  '  and  Halle- 
lujahs which  proclaim  the  righteous  reign  of  Jahweh, 
are  sustained  on  a  plane  of  calm  dignity  and  majesty 
that  no  other  religious  song  approaches. 

Various  attempts  have  been  made  to  classify  the 
Psalms  according  to  their  style  or  subject-matter. 
On  the  whole,  probably  the  most  successful,  because 

p.  261).  A  violent  reaction  against  this  view  began  with  Duhm's 
Knrzer  Hand-Commentar  to  the  Psalms,  where  a  distinct  and 
often  highly  aggressive  personality  is  attributed  to  the  Psalmists. 
More  recent  scholars  like  Beer,  Baethgen,  Gunkel,  Davison  and 
Witton  Davies  approach  the  subject,  not  by  sweeping  assertions 
on  either  side,  but  by  careful  examination  of  individual  Psalms, 
doing  justice  alike  to  the  essentially  '  subjective  '  character  of 
lyrical  poetry,  and  to  the  adaptation  of  the  Psalms  to  congrega- 
tional worsliip. 


The  Psalter  119 

the  simplest,  scheme  is  Hengstenberg's  three-fold 
division  into  (i)  Psalms  of  Praise  (the  t%ill6th  of 
the  head-lines) — that  is,  '  such  Psalms  as  proceeded 
from  a  spirit  chiefly  moved  and  actuated  by  joy, 
showing  itself  in  lively  admiration  of  God,  or  grati- 
tude for  His  astonishing  goodness  in  bestowing  gifts 
on  the  people  generally,  or  on  individuals,  declaring 
the  sense  inwardly  cherished  of  His  love,  or  celebrat- 
ing in  glowing  terms  the  majesty,  glory,  and  grace 
of  God  ' ;  (2)  Psalms  of  supplication  {t^philloth,  or 
'prayers'),  such,  namely,  'as  proceeded  from  a 
depressed  and  mournful  frame  of  mind — variations 
of  the  "  Lord  have  mercy  on  us,"  which  alternates 
with  the  hallelujah  in  the  lives  of  the  saints  '  ;  and 
(3)  religious  moral  or  didactic  Psalms  (maskUhn), 
'  which  proceeded  from  a  more  quiet  reflective  state 
of  mind.'  ^ 

But  it  is  really  impossible  to  classify  such  a  wealth 
of  varied  spiritual  emotion  as  we  find  in  the  Psalms 
In  seeking  to  force  them  within  our  rigid  schemata, 
we  are  only  too  apt  to  lose  the  spirit  that  gives  them 
life.  It  seems  better,  therefore,  to  abandon  any 
attempt  at  mechanical  arrangement,  and  to  seek 
instead  to  enter  sympathetically  into  the  religious 
world  of  the  Psalmists,  that  we  may  catch  glimpses, 
at  least,  of  the  glory  that  dawned  upon  their  spirits, 
and  thus  be  able  to  feel  in  some  measure  as  they  did. 

^  Commentary  on  the  Psalms,  E.  T.,  vol.  III.,  p.  ix. 


CHAPTER    VII 

The   Psalmists'   Thoughts    of  God 

The  centre  of  the  Psalmists'  universe  is  God,  the 
shining  point  round  which  all  their  faith  and  hope 
revolve,  the  living  Source  of  their  light  and  strength 
and  joy.  He  is  omnipresent  in  the  Psalms.  And 
that  not  as  the  end  of  patient  search  and  striving. 
He  is  the  first  principle  of  life  and  feeling.  Only 
the  '  fool '  said  in  his  heart  there  was  no  God.  The 
wise  man  was  sure  of  Him ;  for  he  knew  Him  by 
innumerable  facts  of  personal  experience.  His 
whole  being  was  wrapped  in  God's.  And  his  deepest 
thoughts  and  expectations  were  of  Him. 

From  the  central  place  God  occupies  in  the  Psalm- 
ists' world  it  necessarily  follows  that  He  is  one. 
The  poet  who  revels  in  the  infinite  realm  of  Nature's 
beauty  may  people  the  Universe  with  '  gods  many 
and  lords  many  ;  '  but  earnest  spirits  living  in  the 
immediate  presence  of  the  Divine  could  have  no  god 
beside  Him  they  reverenced.  In  the  Psalter,  indeed, 
we  meet  with  traces  of  the  older  henotheism.  Thus 
God  is  represented  as  '  standing  in  the  assemblage 
of  the  Mighty,  holding  judgment  among  the  gods ' 


The  Psalmists'  Thoughts  of  God    1 2  i 

(Ixxxii.  i).  But  these  other  gods  are  introduced 
only  to  exalt  His  supremacy.  They  are  all  but  faint 
shadows  or  phantoms  of  gods,  over  against  whom 
He  stands  in  unapproachable  splendour  of  light 
and  majesty. 

There  is  none  like  Thee  'mong  the  gods,  O  Lord  ; 
And  no  works  are  there  like  Thy  works  (Ixxxvi.  8). 

Through  the  whole  circuit  of  the  skies  no  god  can  be 
compared  with  Him — 

A  God  feared  in  the  assemblage  of  the  holy  ones, 
Great  and  awful  o'er  all  around  Him  (Ixxxix.  6f.). 

The  contrast  between  the  impotent  gods  the  nations 
worshipped  and  the  Almighty  God  of  Israel  is  power- 
fully emphasized  in  the  triumphant  challenge  : — 

Why  say  the  nations, 

Where  is  now  their  God  ? 
Our  God  is  in  the  heavens  ; 

He  doth  whate'er  He  pleaseth. 
Their  gods  are  gold  and  silver. 

Work  of  the  hands  of  men. 
Mouths  they  have,  but  speak  not ; 

Eyes  they  have,  but  see  not. 
Ears  they  have,  but  hear  not  ; 

Nostrils  they  have,  but  smell  not. 
Hands  they  have,  but  handle  not  ; 

Feet  they  have,  but  walk  not. 
From  their  throat  they  give  no  sound . 

No  breath  is  in  their  mouth.^ 
Like  them  shall  be  their  makers. 

Even  all  that  trust  in  them. 

*  The  missing  stichos  is  supplied  from  Ps.  cxxxv.  17,  which  is 
a  direct  quotation  from  the  present  Psalm. 


12  2  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

But  Israel  trusts  ^  in  Jahweh  ; 

He  is  their  help  and  shield  (cxv.  2ff.). 

In  the  old  folk-poetry  the  home  of  Israel's  God 
was  the  sacred  mount  of  Sinai,  from  which  He  came 
amid  thunder  and  storm  to  aid  His  people  in  their 
needs.  Poetic  survivals  of  this  primitive  conception 
still  linger  in  the  Psalter  [e.g.  Ixviii.  yff.).  But  the 
general  thought  of  the  Psalms  is  of  a  God  near  to  save 
and  bless.  In  the  days  of  Zion's  glory  devout  minds 
in  Israel  loved  to  think  of  Him  as  dwelling  in  their 
midst,  enthroned  '  upon  the  cherubim  '  within  the 
Holy  Place  of  the  Temple,  whither  His  people  went 
'  to  see  His  face  '  (xxiv.  6,  etc.),  and  whence  He 
sent  them  help  and  strength  (xx.  2  ;  xxvii.  4f.,  etc.). 
But  alongside  of  this  more  limited  view  of  His 
presence  there  meet  us,  even  in  the  earlier  Psalms, 
exalted  conceptions  of  Jahweh  as  the  King  of  heaven. 

Jahweh  is  in  His  holy  Temple  ; 

Jahweh' s  throne  is  in  heaven  (xi.  4). 

In  the  ritualistic  age  after  the  Exile  this  was  the 
dominant  thought  of  God.  He  was  the  Holj^  One — 
infinitely  exalted  above  human  weakness  and  imper- 
fection— ^the  Eternal  God — from  everlasting  to  ever- 
lasting— 

Before  the  mountains  were  brought  forth. 
Or  the  earth  and  world  were  conceived* 

*  The  context  demands  the  perfect  tense  of  the  LXX,  instead 
of  the  imperative  of  the  Massoretic  text. 

•  Read  the  Polal  ppinri,  with  the  majority  of  the  Versions. 


The  Psalmists'  Thoughts  of  God    123 

in  whose  sight  a  thousand  years  were  but 

As  yesterday  when  it  is  gone, 

Or  as  a  watch  in  the  night  (xc.  2ff.)— 

the  King  reigning  in  majesty  on  His  throne  above, 
'  wrapped  about  with  light  as  with  a  garment ' 
(civ.  2),  watching  all  things  that  passed  on  earth, 
and  by  His  almighty  fiat  directing  the  world,  and 
turning  the  counsels  of  the  nations  to  subserve  His 
purpose  (cf.  Pss.  xciii.,  xcv.,  xcvi.,  etc.).  This 
thought  of  God's  transcendent  majesty  and  glory 
imparted  to  the  Hebrew  faith  an  elevation  and  sub- 
limity of  feeling  that  no  other  ancient  religion  at- 
tained. At  the  same  time,  it  tended  to  remove  God 
to  heights  of  spiritual  grandeur  inaccessible  to  mortal 
man.  Before  Him  the  saints  might  humble  them- 
selves in  prostrate  reverence  and  awe,  or  seek  to 
approach  Him  by  sacrifice  or  prayer.  To  many 
there  seemed  no  more  '  living  '  way  to  His  presence. 
Yet  on  the  wings  of  faith  and  prayer  the  humble 
spirit  could  soar  to  God  in  His  heaven.  Or  rather 
God  Himself  bent  down  to  hear  and  answer  His 
people's  prayers.  In  the  naive  imagery  of  the 
earlier  age,  the  storm-clouds  that  attended  His 
march  from  Sinai  became  the  chariot  on  which  He 
descended  from  the  clouds. 

He  bowed  the  heavens,  and  came  down. 

Thick  darkness  under  His  feel. 
He  rode  on  a  cherub,  and  flew — 

Swooped  down  on  the  wings  of  the  wind. 


124  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

Darkness  He  made  His  covert. 

The  veil  encircling  his  presence. 
Darkness  of  waters  veiled  Him, 

A  thicket  of  clouds  without  light^  (xviii.  off.)- 

To  the  more  spiritual  vision  of  later  days  it  was  God's 
own  love  and  sympathy  that  bridged  the  gulf,  and 
brought  Him  down  to  help. 

High  above  all  nations  is  Jahweh, 

Above  heaven  His  glory. 
Who  is  like  Jahweh  our  God, 

That  dwellcth  on  high  ; 
Yet  stoopeth  down  to  behold 

The  dwellers  on  earth  ?  ' 
He  raiseth  the  poor  from  the  dust. 

From  the  dunghill  the  needy. 
To  give  him  a  dwelling  with  princes. 

The  lords  of  his  people  (cxiii.  4ff.)- 

But  deeper  knowledge  found  no  spatial  gulf  between 
God  and  man.  He  whose  presence  filled  both  heaven 
and  earth  dwelt  also  with  His  people, 

Nigh  unto  all  that  call  Him, 

Unto  all  that  call  Him  in  truth  (cxlv.  i8). 

The  very  exaltation  of  God  thus  became  the  measure 
of  His  power  and  grace  to  help  the  humble. 

1  The  text  here  has  been  somewhat  mutilated.  For  IflSD  it 
is  probably  better  to  read  iriD?.  Before  D^OTlSC^'n  the  verb  has 
fallen  out ;  Duhm  happily  suggests  WD?.  For  "^IV  read  ''3U 
with  various  Versions  ;  and  close  the  verse  with  the  rljl3p,  which 
has  wrongly  attached  itself  to  the  following  (cf.  Bickell,  Duhm). 

^  The  idea  of  '  heaven  '  has  no  place  after  God's  '  stooping 
down.'   Dtpi^3  may  be  a  mere  slip  for  D^lt^'V. 


The  Psalmists'  Thouo^hts  of  God    125 

Though  Jahweh  be  high. 
He  beholdeth  the  lowly  ; 
But  knoweth  the  proud  from  afar  (cxxxviii.  6). 

He  who  '  telleth  the  number  of  the  stars,  and  giveth 
them  all  their  names,'  by  the  same  great  might 

Healeth  the  broken  in  heart, 

And  bindeth  up  all  their  ivounds  (cxlvii.  3f.), 

The  great  God,  '  mighty  in  power,'  of  whose  under- 
standing there  is  '  no  count,' 

upholdeth  the  meek. 
But  the  wicked  brings  low  to  the  ground  (cxlvii.  5f.). 

This  widening  thought  of  God's  universal  Presence 
receives  its  grandest  expression  in  that  majestic 
Psalm  (cxxxix.),  which  Aben  Ezra  regards  as  '  the 
crown  of  the  Psalter  ' : — 

O  Lord,  my  God,  Thou  hast  searched  me. 

Throughly  Thou  knowest  my  hearts 
Thou  knowest  my  sitting  and  rising. 

Thou  readest  my  thought  afar  off. 
Thou  provest  my  walk  and  my  couching  ; 

Thou'rt  acquainted  with  all  my  ways. 
There  is  not  a  word  on  my  tongue. 

But,  Lord  !  Thou  knowest  it  all. 
behind  and  before  me  besetting, 

On  me  Thou  hast  laid  Thy  hand. 
Too  wondrous  this  knowledge  for  me  ! 

It  is  high — 7  cannot  attain  it. 

Where  shall  I  go  from  Thy  spirit. 

Or  where  shall  I  flee  from  Thy  face  ? 
If  I  climb  to  the  heavens.  Thou  art  there  ; 

If  I  couch  in  Sheol,  Thou  art  there. 

1  The  opening  verse  is  incomplete  ;   but  the  missing  words  are 
now  irrecoverably  lost.     I  have  simply  filled  in  the  sense  required. 


12  6  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

//  I  take  me  the  wings  of  the  morning, 

And  dwell  at  the  end  of  the  sea — 
Even  there  Thy  hand  will  grasp  me. 

Thy  right  hand  will  hold  me  fast. 
If  I  say,  '  The  darkness  will  hide  me. 

And  the  night  throw  its  curtain  around  me,' 
Even  the  darkness  for  Thee  is  not  dark. 

But  the  night  shines  clear  as  the  day. 

To  the  pure  religious  feeling  of  the  Hebrew  poets 
this  '  besetting  '  Presence  was  a  real,  living  Person. 
In  its  portraiture  of  the  Divine  character  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Psalms  is  often  strongly  anthropo- 
morphic. God  not  merely  '  sits  '  on  His  throne, 
seeing  and  hearing  all  things  in  heaven  and  earth, 
but  He  is  moved  by  pity  and  sorrow,  love  and  wrath, 
as  His  children  are,  and  under  the  impulse  of  His 
feelings  bestirs  Himself  to  act.  He  stands  by  the 
right  hand  of  the  good,  warding  off  the  evils  that 
beset  them,  and  making  their  way  prosperous  (xvi. 
8).  On  the  wicked  He  '  rains  out  fire  and  brim- 
stone '  (xi.  6).  He  '  girds  His  anointed  with 
strength  for  the  battle,'  subduing  the  peoples  under 
him  (xviii.  39ff.)-  He  puts  forth  His  hand,  and 
draws  the  righteous  '  out  of  the  horrible  pit,'  planting 
his  feet  on  a  rock,  and  making  his  goings  sure  (xl. 
2).  But  again  He  '  hides  His  face,'  and  thinks  no 
more  of  the  affliction  of  His  people  ;  He  seems  even 
to  go  to  sleep,  and  abandon  them  for  ever  (xliv. 
23f.).  Then  at  the  voice  of  their  supplication  and 
cries  He  awakes  from  His  sleep,  and  shouts  at  the 


The  Psalmists'  Thoughts  of  God    127 

foe  '  like  a  hero  overcome  with  wine,'  beating  them 
backward,  and  covering  them  with  perpetual  re- 
proach (Ixxviii.  65!.).  In  His  contempt  for  the 
plots  of  the  wicked,  He  '  laughs  aloud '  (ii.  4 ; 
xxxvii.  13  ;  lix.  8),  holding  all  of  them  in  derision. 
He  appears  actually  to  change  His  countenance 
with  the  changing  moods  of  men. 

To  the  good  Thou  dost  show  Thyself  good. 

To  the  perfect  man  perfect  ; 
To  the  pure  Thou  dost  show  Thyself  pure. 

To  the  crooked  man  perverse  (xviii.  25!.). 

The  boldness  of  such  thoughts  of  the  Eternal  may 
be  sometimes  even  offensive  to  the  Christian  mind. 
But  anthropomorphism  was  the  very  life  of  ancient    v     ^ 
religions.     And    the    strength    of    the    anthropo-     ^(^ 
morphisms  measured  the  vitality  of  the  religion. 
A  God  robbed  of  all  human  traits  of  character,  and 
spiritualized  into  pure  passionless  Being,  would  be 
*  hollow,   empty,    and   poor,'   an   abstraction   that 
simple  souls  could  not  contemplate  or  worship  with 
joyful   confidence.     The   anthropomorphic   concep- 1 
tion  gave  the  bare  idea  of  God  its  fulness  of  content, 
hus  making  religion  both  a  possibility  and  a  delight. 
And  the  richer  the  anthropomorphism,  the  fuller  j 
the  good  man's  life  and  joy  in  God. 

A  study  of  the  Divine  names  is  often  of  supreme 
importance  in  reaching  the  heart  of  ancient  piety. 
For  to  the  primitive  mind  the  name  was  no  mere 


12  8  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

appendage,  but  a  real  expression  of  character.  In 
this  respect,  however,  there  is  nothing  distinctive 
about  the  Psaher,  The  Book  but  reflects  the 
general  viewpoint  of  the  Old  Testament.  Thus  the 
broad  name  for  '  god  '  is  'El,  or  '  strong  one,'  with 
the  plural  'Elhn  used  of  the  general  category  of 
*  gods,'  and  'Elohim,  a  plural  of  eminence  or  majesty, 
of  the  One  Supreme  God  of  heaven  and  earth.  The 
word  'El  is  occasionally  found  in  conjunction  with 
'Elyon,  '  the  Most  High,'  or  Shaddai,  the  archaic 
name  for  '  Almighty.'  But  by  far  the  most  frequent 
of  the  Divine  names — in  harmony  with  the  per- 
sonal piety  of  the  Psalter — is  the  personal  Jahweh^ 
As  has  been  noted,  this  title  predominates  in  Books 
I,  IV,  and  V,  while  even  in  the  Elohistic  Psalter 
(Books  II  and  III)  the  'Elohim  is  mainly  redactional. 
The  original  meaning  of  Jahweh  is  still  involved 
in  deep  uncertainty.  A  convincing  hypothesis 
would,  no  doubt,  throw  a  flood  of  light  on  the  earlier 
stages  of  Old  Testament  religion.  This  is  less  vital, 
however,  for  our  present  purpose.  To  the  devout 
feeling  of  the  Psalmists  the  name  Jahweh  suggested 
not  its  primal  significance,  but  the  whole  content 
of  the  term,  as  enlarged  by  centuries  of  religious 
experience.  And  to  this  wider  connotation  their 
own  utterances  contributed  no  small  share.  It  is 
essential,  therefore,  that  we  enrich  the  personality 
of  Jahweh  by  the  Psalmists'  many-sided  thought  of 


The  Psalmists'  Thoughts  of  God    129 

Him,  and  the  fulness  of  spiritual  emotion  they 
lavished  on  His  name. 

In  the  Psalter  one  naturally  expects  to  find  de- 
posits from  the  age-long  stream  of  Israel's  religious 
tradition.  Thus  the  old  conception  of  Jahweh  as 
the  storm-god  has  already  been  met  with  in  xviii. 
yfi.  Survivals  of  the  still  more  primitive  thought 
of  Jahweh  as  the  conqueror  of  the  mythical  powers 
Leviathan  and  Rahab  persist  even  in  late  Psalms 
like  Ixxiv.  I3ff.  and  Ixxxix.  8ff.  He  appears  likewise 
as  the  war-god,  '  the  Lord  of  battle-hosts,'  who 
defends  His  city  and  people  against  their  enemies, 
or  leads  His  armies  to  the  conflict,  '  girds  them 
with  strength  '  for  the  victory,  and  returns  with 
them  in  triumph  to  the  '  hoary  '  gates  of  Zion 
(xviii.  32ff.,  xxiv.  yU.,  xlvi.  iff.,  etc.).  But  the 
real  Jahweh  of  the  Psalms  has  long  outgrown  these 
cruder  conceptions.  He  is  essentially  ethical,  the 
good  and  gracious  God  with  whom  His  people  love 
to  have  fellowship.  And  only  as  we  enter  into 
sympathy  with  this  thought  of  the  Eternal  do  we 
touch  the  living  spirit  of  the  Psalter. 

It  is  proverbially  difficult  to  analyse  character. 
The  personality  is  one  undivided  whole.  In  analys- 
ing, therefore,  we  are  apt  to  lose  the  whole  in  its 
parts.  The  difficulty  is  especially  acute  when  we 
seek  to  define  the  character  of  God.  It  is  not  merely 
that  He  transcends  our  petty  attempts  to  measure 

9 


130  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

His  greatness.  But  in  our  analyses  we  incur  the 
danger  of  setting  the  Divine  Nature  before  our 
minds  as  a  series  of  lifeless  attributes,  with  which 
the  soul  can  enjoy  no  real  fellowship.  The  intense 
personal  piety  of  the  Psalmists  raised  them  above 
this  danger.  They  dwell,  indeed,  on  aspects  of  the 
Divine  character.  But  these  are  never  abstracted 
from  the  fulness  of  His  personality.  It  is  the  living 
God  Himself,  and  not  His  mere  attributes,  that 
fill  their  spiritual  horizon.  And  when  they  do 
centre  their  vision  on  separate  qualities  of  His 
character,  they  seek  to  view  them  in  harmony,  and 
to  relate  them  to  the  fundamental  unity  of  His 
Person.  For,  unlike  the  gods  of  the  nations,  who 
are  too  often  bundles  of  moral  contradiction,  Jahweh 
is  not  merely  One  God,  He  is  a  self-consistent  per- 
sonality, true  to  Himself  and  the  moral  principles 
by  which  He  orders  the  Universe.  This  ethical 
unity  of  the  Divine  character  receives  just  emphasis 
in  the  Psalter.  The  God  of  the  Psalmists  is  true. 
The  root  quality  of  His  being  is  'emeth  or  'emiindh — 
truth,  consistency,  fidelity  to  principle.  And  one 
manifestation  of  His  truth  is  gedhek  or  g^dhdJcdh, 
righteousness,  or  unswerving  allegiance  to  that 
which  is  straightforward,  upright,  and  honourable. 
In  the  Psalms  the  two  qualities  are  vitally  related, 
God  and  His  judgments  are  '  true  and  righteous 
altogether,'  moved  by  sole  regard  to  goodness  and 


The  Psalmists'  Thoughts  of  God    131 

honour.  This  harmony  of  truth  and  righteousness 
is  equally  involved  in  the  idea  of  God's  perfection. 
The  law  and  the  ways  of  God  are  Pmirmm — perfect, 
complete,  all-round  in  their  goodness.  And  with 
God  perfection  is  no  superficial  appearance.  His 
word  is  bar,  pure,  sincere,  true  to  the  inmost  heart. 
There  is  no  more  significant  evidence  of  the  ethical 
principle  of  Old  Testament  religion  than  the  intim- 
ate relation  of  holiness  to  the  qualities  just  indi- 
cated. In  itself,  holiness  has  no  essential  bearing 
on  morality.  It  might  even  become  the  handmaid 
of  the  vilest  immorality.  The  idea  suggests  merely 
God's  separation  or  transcendence.  Holiness  is 
that  by  which  God  rises  above  men.  But  in  the 
religion  of  Israel  this  transcendence  is  distinctively 
moral.  God  surpasses  His  creatures  in  righteous- 
ness, purity,  and  goodness.  And  His  rule  over  man 
is  inspired  by  these  ideals. 

Thou  art  no  God  that  hath  pleasure  in  wickedness  ; 

No  evil  man  shall  sojourn  with  Thee. 
Before  Thine  eyes  no  boasters  shall  stand  ; 

Thou  hatest  all  workers  of  iniquity  (v.  4). 

His  eyes  look  down  on  the  world. 

His  eyelids  try  the  children  of  men  ; 
Jahweh  trieth  both  righteous  and  evil, 

His  soul  doth  hate  the  lovers  of  violence. 

On  the  wicked  He  rainetk  coals  of  fire  ; 

And  glowing  wind  is  the  portion  of  their  cup. 
For  Jahweh  is  righteous,  and  loveth  right  things  ; 

The  upright  alone  shall  behold  His  face  (xi.  4ff.). 


132  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

Yet  the  God  of  the  Psalmists  is  no  inflexible 
Judge,  dispensing  the  destinies  of  life  on  the  basis 
of  hard,  stern  justice.  On  its  other  side,  truth  is 
related  to  love  and  mercy.  In  the  Psalms  the  two 
qualities  are  frequently  united.  '  The  paths  of  the 
Lord  are  love  and  truth  '  (xxv.  10).  In  answer  to 
His  people's  prayers  He  '  sends  forth  His  love  and 
truth  '  (Ivii.  3).  In  the  perfection  of  His  character 
'  love  and  truth  are  met  together  '  (Ixxxv.  10).  He 
is  a  God  '  compassionate  and  gracious,  slow  to  anger, 
and  full  of  love  and  truth '  (Ixxxvi.  15).  There 
s  no  contradiction,  therefore,  between  God's  justice 
and  His  love.  The  two  are  complementary  quali- 
ties— poles  of  the  Divine  character — alike  essential 
to  the  full  harmony  of  His  nature.  Thus  in  various 
passages  of  the  Psalms  they  appear  in  true  poetic 
parallelism.     For  example  : — 

He  delighteth  in  right  and  judgment ; 
The  earth  is  full  of  His  love  (xxxiii.  5), 

as  though  love  were  the  twin-sister  of  judgment ; 

His  work  is  honour  and  majesty. 

And  His  righteousness  endureth  for  ever. 
Remembered  hath  He  made  His  wonders  ; 

Gracious  and  compassionate  is  Jahweh  (cxi.  3!.). 

Thus  the  saving  mercies  of  God — His  gracious  deeds 
of  help  and  deliverance — may  be  regarded  as  the 
perfect  work  now  of  His  righteousness,  and  again 


•    The  Psalmists'  Thoughts  of  God    133 

of  His  love,  or  even  as  the  fruitage  of  love  and 
righteousness  combined. 

By  awful  things  in  righteousness  wilt  Thou  answer  us, 
O  God  of  our  salvation  (Ixv,  5). 

Show  us  Thy  love,  O  Lord  ; 

And  grant  us  Thy  salvation  (Ixxxv.  7). 

The  Lord  hath  made  known  His  salvation, 
His  righteousness  unveiled  to  the  eyes  of  the  nations. 

He  hath  remembered  His  love  unto  Jacob, 
His  truth  to  the  household  of  Israel. 

All  ends  of  the  earth  have  seen 

The  salvation  of  our  Lord  (xcviii.  2f.). 

The  same  fine  balance  is  preserved  in  the  great 
symphony  of  the  Divine  goodness  (xxxvi.  5ff.), 
where  God's  immeasurable  love  responds  to  His 
eternal  justice,  and  the  heart  of  the  Psalmist  goes 
out  in  joyful  trust  to  this  loving,  faithful,  and 
righteous  Lord  as  the  fountain  of  all  his  good  : — 

Thy  love.  Lord,  soars  to  heaven  ; 

To  the  skies  Thy  faithfulness. 
As  the  mountains  of  God  is  Thy  justice  ; 

As  the  great  abyss  are  Thy  judgments. 

Both  man  and  beast  Thou  preservest ; 

O  Lord,  how  precious  Thy  love  ! 
To  Thee  draw  the  sons  of  men  ;* 

In  the  shade  of  Thy  wings  they  hide  them. 


*  The  Hebrew  text  is  here  obviously  incomplete.  Duhm  has 
ingeniously  suggested  \3|1  -IXb^  ^\]?^  for  *p3-1  D^■f?X,  thus  giving  a 
true  parallelism. 


134  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

They  are  filled  with  the  fat  of  Thy  house  ; 

Thou  makest  them  drink  of  the  brook  of  Thy  pleasures: 
For  with  Thee  is  the  fountain  of  life  ; 

In  Thy  light  do  we  see  light. 

The  poet  has  here  risen  almost  to  the  Christian 
conception  of  love  as  the  full  radiance  of  the  Divine 
character.  From  not  a  few  other  spiritual  uplands 
of  the  Psalter  this  light  shines  forth  clear  and  pure. 
Jahweh's  love  to  those  that  trust  in  Him  is  '  mar- 
vellous '  (xvii.  7),  beyond  all  power  to  tell  (xl.  5)  ; 
it  has  continued  '  from  eternity  '  (xxv.  6),  and  will 
equally  '  endure  for  ever  '  (cxviii.  iff. ;  cxxxvi.  iff.)  ; 
it  is  the  anchor  of  faith  and  hope  when  all  else  is 
lost  (xxvii.  13)  ;  it  is  life  itself  (xxx.  5),  even  '  better 
than  life '  (Ixiii.  3).  For  love  is  God's  eternal 
nature,  that  which  He  cannot  forget  without  being 
false  to  Himself  (Ixxvii.  yfi.).^  And  the  words  by 
which  the  Psalmists  describe  the  Divine  love  show 
how  very  dear  it  was  to  them.  The  general  term 
iobhdh, '  goodness,'  is  occasionally  used  of  the  kindly, 
gracious   acts  of  Jahweh.     But   by  far  the  most 

*  '  The  prophet  deals  justly  with  the  question  whether  God  will 
continue  to  be  gracious  ;  for  the  fundamental  law  of  the  goodness 
that  God  extends  to  us  involves  its  abiding  to  the  end.  Thus 
he  does  not  exactly  expostulate  with  God  ;  but  rather  in  his 
self-communings  he  argues  from  the  nature  of  God  that  He  cannot 
but  continue  His  gracious  favour  towards  the  good,  to  whom  He 
showsHimself  in  the  character  of  a  Father.  .  .  .  It  is  as  though 
he  said,  How  can  God  interrupt  the  course  of  His  fatherly  good- 
ness, seeing  He  cannot  divest  Himself  of  His  own  nature  ?  '— 
Calvin,  sub  loco. 


The  Psalmists'  Thoughts  of  God    135 

frequent  word  is  l^esed,  a  noun  derived  from  the 
Semitic  root  for  softness,  which,  emphasizes  the 
warmth  and  constancy  of  the  heart  of  God.  As 
apphed  to  Him,  the  word  signifies  '  neither  more 
nor  less  than  paternal  affection.'  ^  To  the  Psalmists 
God's  love  was  like  a  father's — tender,  loyal,  true, 
unceasingly  active,  delighting  to  show  itself  in  word 
and  deed.  A  stream  of  still  richer  emotion  is  thrown 
into  the  current  of  Divine  love  by  the  nearly-related 
term  ra^dmim,  from  the  same  root  as  rehem,  '  the 
womb,'  thus  suggesting  something  of  the  yearning 
passion  of  the  mother's  love.  God  thus  united  in 
Himself  all  that  was  purest  and  best  in  human 
love.  His  love  even  transcended  the  dearest  of 
human  affections.     For 

Should  father  and  mother  forsake  me, 
Jahweh  would  take  me  up  (xxvii.  lo). 

This  love  of  God,  so  boundless  in  height  and 
depth,  moves  over  the  whole  circuit  of  human  life. 
His  eyes  are  ever  on  the  good,  that  He  may  uphold 
them  waking  and  sleeping,  and  deliver  them  from 
all  their  troubles  (iii.  5  ;  iv.  8,  etc.).  He  gives  them 
victory  over  their  foes  (xviii.  i6f.,  etc.)  ;  He  saves 
them  from  fear  and  want  (xxxiv.  gff.)  ;  He  com- 
passes them  about  with  His  favour  as  with  a  shield 
(v.  12)  ;  He  establishes  them  in  all  their  ways  (vii. 
9).     He  keeps  them  '  as  the  apple  of  His  eye ' 

^  Cheyne,  Ency.  Bibl.,  art.  Loving-kindness,  Col.  2826. 


136  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

(xvii.  8)  ;  He  hides  them  in  the  secret  of  His  tent 
(xxvii.  5).  He  judges  the  fatherless  and  the  op- 
pressed (x.  18)  ;  He  comforts  the  afflicted,  and 
saves  the  contrite  (xxxiv.  18).  He  delivers  the 
souls  of  the  righteous  from  the  grave  (xvi.  10  ;  xxx, 
3  ;  Ivi.  13)  ;  He  turns  their  mourning  into  dancing, 
removes  their  sackcloth,  and  girds  them  with  glad- 
ness (xxx.  11).  He  visits  the  earth,  and  gives  men 
their  corn  in  season  (Ixv.  gft.).  He  guides  the 
wanderers,  and  saves  the  captives  ;  He  heals  the 
sick,  and  protects  the  voyagers  amid  the  storm 
(cvii.  iff.).  He  keeps  them  from  perils  of  sun  and 
moon  (cxxi.  3ff.).  But  His  crowning  work  is  in 
forgiveness.  Jahweh  is  a  righteous  God,  *  that 
hath  indignation  every  day  '  against  the  wicked 
(vii.  II,  etc.).  And  yet  His  heart  is  moved  with 
compassion  for  the  sinful  sons  of  men.  His  nature 
is  to  forgive  ;  for  His  name  is  love  and  mercy  (xxv. 
7,  11).  At  the  first  impulse  of  repentance,  in 
answer  to  the  first  stammering  accents  of  compas- 
sion. He  freely  forgives  the  iniquity  of  men's  sin 
(xxxii.  5),  creating  in  them  a  clean  heart,  and  re- 
newing within  them  a  steadfast  spirit,  immovably 
turned  to  the  right  (li.  10).  For  the  forgiving  love 
of  God  is  still  wedded  to  righteousness.  With  Him 
there  is  forgiveness,  '  that  He  may  be  feared ' 
(cxxx.  4), — ^that  His  children's  hearts  may  be  moved 
by  reverent  love  to  Him,  and  that  they  may  do  His 


The  Psalmists'  Thoughts  of  God    137 

will  with  a  free,  glad  spirit, — love  being  here,  too, 
'  the  fulfilling  of  the  law.' 

In  none  of  the  Psalms  is  the  universal  sweep  of 
the  love  of  God  unfolded  with  such  beauty  of  lan- 
guage, and  unaffected  delight  and  tenderness  of 
feeling,  as  in  the  old  Scottish  Communion  Psalm 
(ciii.)  :— 

Bless  thou  Jahweh,  my  soul, — 

Even  all  within  me,  (bless)  His  holy  name  I 

Bless  thou  Jahweh,  my  soul, 
A  nd  forget  not  all  His  benefits ! 

Who  pardcneth  all  thine  iniquities, 

A  nd  healeth  all  thy  diseases ; 
Who  redeemeth  thy  life  from  the  pit. 

And  with  love  and  compassion  doth  crown  thee; 

Who  sateth  thy  soul  with  goodness. 

That  thy  youth  is  renewed  like  the  eagle's. 

{For)  a  worker  of  right  things  is  Jahweh, 
And  of  judgment  for  all  the  oppressed. 

He  made  known  His  ways  unto  Moses, 

His  deeds  to  the  children  of  Israel. 
Yea,  gracious  and  tender  is  Jahweh, 

Slow  to  anger,  and  plenteous  in  love. 

He  will  not  always  contend. 

Nor  keep  up  His  anger  for  ever  ; 
Not  by  our  sins  hath  He  dealt  with  as. 

Nor  treated  us  by  our  iniquities. 

For  high  as  the  heavens  o'er  the  earth 

Is  His  love  o'er  them  that  fear  Him  ; 
As  far  as  the  East  from  the  West, 

So  far  hath  He  put  our  transgressions. 

As  a  father  yearns  o'er  his  children. 

So  yearns  Jahweh  o'er  them  that  fear  Him, 


1 3  S  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

For  'tis  He  that  knoweth  our  frame- 
He  is  mindful  that  we  are  dust. 

Frail  man — his  days  are  as  grass  ; 

As  a  flower  of  the  field,  he  doth  flourish. 
When  the  wind  passeth  o'er,  it  is  gone, 

And  its  place  doth  know  it  no  more. 

But  Jahweh's  love  is  for  ever. 

To  children's  children  His  righteousness, — 
When  they  steadfastly  keep  His  covenant. 

And  remember  His  precepts  to  do  them. 
In  the  heavens  hath  He  stablished  His  throne 

And  His  kingdom  hath  rule  over  all. 
Bless  Jahweh,  all  ye  His  angels. 

Ye  mighty  ones,  doing  His  word  I 

Bless  Jahweh,  all  ye  His  hosts, 

Ye  servants,  fulfilling  His  pleasure  I 
Bless  Jahweh,  all  ye  His  works. 

In  every  place  where  He  rules  ! 

But  the  Psalmists  not  only  linger  with  joy  on  the 
thought  of  God's  love.  They  visualize  it  also  in 
image  and  symbol.  Thus  God  is  their  '  shield,'  to 
ward  off  the  weapons  of  the  enemy  (iii.  3),  their 
'  strong  tower  '  or  castle,  whither  they  may  flee 
for  refuge  in  the  time  of  distress  (ix.  9),  the  '  rock  ' 
on  which  they  can  stand  secure  from  danger  (xviii. 
2;  xix.  14,  etc.),  their  '  refuge  and  strength,'  their 
'  ever  present  help  in  trouble  '  (xlvi.  i)  ;  He  is  the 
'  light  '  by  which  the  righteous  walk  through  dark- 
ness, and  in  whose  radiance  they  also  see  light 
(xxvii.  I ;  xxxvi.  9)  ;  with  Him  too  is  '  the  fountain 
of  life,'  the  well-spring  of  all  life's  freshness  and 
joy  (xxxvi.  8f.)  ;  He  is  the  '  portion  of  their  inherit- 


The  Psalmists'  Thoughts  of  God    139 

ance,'  and  the  brimming  '  cup '  of  their  pleasure 
(xvi.  5),  the  '  sun '  of  the  good  man's  heavens,  the 
radiant  centre  of  his  light  and  hope  (Ixxxiv.  11), 
his  '  strength  and  song  and  salvation '  (cxviii.  14). 
Still  more  deeply  do  we  enter  into  the  heart  of 
the  Psalmists'  piety  through  the  living  and  human 
images  under  which  they  body  forth  His  goodness. 
Like  our  Lord  Himself  they  occasionally  represent 
God  as  a  mother-bird,  in  the  shadow  of  whose  wings 
they  nestle  in  perfect  safety  and  joy  (Ivii.  i ;  Ixiii. 
7,  etc.).  They  think  of  Him  likewise  as  the  go' el,  the 
'  redeemer '  or  champion,  who  receives  His  afflicted 
ones  within  the  sanctuary  of  His  tent,  and  defends 
them  against  the  enemies  that  clamour  for  their 
life  (x.  18;  XV.  i;  xix.  14,  etc.).  A  figure  suggesting 
to  the  Oriental  mind  the  highest  measure  of  loyalty 
and  devotion — that  of  the  good  shepherd,  '  that 
layeth  down  his  life  for  the  sheep  * — is  met  with  in 
various  Psalms  (Ixxix.  13 ;  Ixxx.  i ;  xcv.  7;  c.  3), 
where  Jahweh  appears  as  the  Shepherd  of  Israel. 
But  nowhere  is  this  image  so  sweetly  portrayed  as 
in  the  immortal  Shepherd-Psalm  (xxiii.),  where  in- 
sensibly the  figure  of  the  Shepherd  passes  into  that 
of  the  Host  and  Friend  : — 

The  Lord  is  my  Shepherd  ;  nought  lack  I 
On  fresh,  green  pastures.^ 

^  As  the  measure  is  elegiac  throughout,  it  seems  necessary  to 
omit  the  superfluous  ^3>?*3')1. 


140  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

By  the  gentle  waters  *  He  leads  me. 

Refreshing  my  soul  ; 
He  guides  me  by  paths  that  are  right. 

For  His  own  name's  sake. 

Though  I  walk  through  the  vale  of  deep  darkness, 

I  will  fear  no  evil ; 
Thou  art  with  me  ;  Thy  rod  and  Thy  staff  * — 

They  comfort  me. 

Thou  spreadest  for  me  a  table 

In  the  face  of  my  foes  ; 
Thou  anointest  my  head  with  oil. 

My  cup  runneth  over. 

Surely  goodness  and  love  will  pursue  me 

All  the  days  of  my  life  ; 
And  in  Jahweh's  house  will  I  dwell 

For  length  of  days. 

The  thought  of  the  love  of  God  has  thus  brought 
us  near  to  the  cardinal  teaching  of  Jesus  Christ. 
For  there  is  no  vital  contrast  between  Psalter  and 
Gospel.  Jesus  but  focussed  in  His  own  Person  the 
rays  of  light  that  streamed  through  the  older  Cove- 
nant. To  the  devout  spirit  in  both  New  and  Old 
Covenants,  God  was  essentially  love.  And  His  love 
was  conceived  under  the  purest  images  of  human 
affection.  We  have  seen  how  the  Psalter  antici- 
pates even  the  thought  of  the  Father-God.  The 
lips  of  the  Psalmists  may  not  yet  have  learned  to 

*  nin-13p  ^O,  lit.  waters  of  rest  or  repose. 

'  The  rod  is  the  mace  or  club  with  which  the  shepherd  defended 
the  sheep  against  robbers  or  beasts  of  prey,  the  staff  the  crook  by 
which  he  helped  them  out  of  hard  or  dangerous  ground. 


The  Psalmists'  Thoughts  of  God    141 

say,  '  Abba,'  Father ;  but  they  can  at  least  think 
of  the  Eternal  yearning  over  His  people  as  a  father 
over  his  children,  and  stooping  to  receive  them 
when  both  father  and  mother  have  proved  them 
false.  They  picture  Him  also  as  a  *  Father  of  the 
fatherless  '  (Ixviii.  5),  and  the  '  God  and  Father '  of 
righteous  kings  (Ixxxix.  26f.).  It  needed  but  a 
fuller  conception  of  God  as  the  universal  King  and 
Lord,  and  the  unveiling  of  His  character  in  a  true 
Son,  to  bring  to  the  light  His  perfect  Fatherly  Being, 
ind  to  lead  men  to  pray  from  the  heart, '  Our  Father 
vhich  art  in  heaven/ 


CHAPTER   VIII 

The  Glory   of   God    in  Nature 

The  chapter  on  folk-poetry  has  already  evinced 
the  Hebrews'  love  of  Nature.  In  the  Psalms  this 
feeling  receives  much  fuller  expression.  There  may 
be  nothing  here  approaching  the  plastic  power  of 
Greek  art,  nor  any  of  the  modern  poets'  delight  in 
Nature  as  a  joy  in  itself.  The  Hebrew  spirit  was 
too  predominantly  subjective  to  lose  itself  thus  in 
objects  of  outward  contemplation.  But  throughout 
the  Book  there  flash  upon  us  gleams  of  the  most 
delicate  appreciation  of  Nature's  essential  beauty, 
with  piercing  glances  into  the  hidden  '  life  of  things,* 
unobscured  by  the  half-lights  of  more  conscious 
art,  which  give  the  Hebrew  poets  a  unique  place 
in  the  spiritual  interpretation  of  the  Universe. 

The  Psalmists'  feeling  for  Nature  is  almost  modern 
in  its  range.  Like  other  ancient  poets,  they  find 
a  deep  delight  in  the  sweeter  scenes  that  haunt 
their  vision  :  the  tree  planted  by  streams  of  water, 
that  yieldeth  its  fruit  in  season,  and  whose  leaf 
fadeth  not  (i.  3),  the  clinging  vine,  and  the  tender 
olive-stem,  surrounded  by  its  circlet  of  shootlings 

142 


The  Glory  of  God  in  Nature     143 

(cxxviii.  3),  the  rich  green  grass,  and  the  flower  of 
the  field,  so  dehcate  in  its  beauty,  yet  so  soon 
withered  and  gone  (xc.  5f . ;  ciii.  I5f.),  the  furrows 
ridged  and  watered  for  the  seeding  (Ixv.  lo),  the 
sower  going  on  his  way  weeping,  as  he  beareth  the 
precious  seed,  and  the  reaper  returning  with  joy, 
bringing  his  sheaves  with  him  (cxxvi.  5f.),  the  valleys 
and  the  hill-tops  '  covered  with  corn '  (Ixv.  13 ; 
Ixxii.  16),  the  pastures  also  warmly  '  clothed  with 
flocks  '  (Ixv.  13),  the  dew  of  Hermon  descending  in 
fresh  glory  to  bless  the  thirsty  ground  (cxxxiii.  3), 
the  springs  that  send  their  waters  through  the 
valleys,  and  into  the  desert  places,  to  give  drink  to 
every  beast  of  the  field,  and  to  change  the  deserts 
into  fruitful  pasture-grounds  (civ.  lof . ;  cxxvi.  4), 
the  snow  that  enwraps  the  earth  like  soft,  warm 
'  wool,'  and  the  hoar  frost  scattered  abroad  '  like 
ashes  '  (cxlvii.  16),  the  great  mountains  of  Bashan 
and  Hermon  with  their  snowy  summits,  the  symbols 
of  eternal  might  and  majesty  (Ixviii.  I4f. ;  xc.  2), 
or  by  their  cedary  slopes  suggesting  the  luxuriance 
of  blessing  that  falls  to  the  righteous  (xcii.  12), 
and  the  lesser  hills  pregnant  with  thoughts  of  the 
good  man's  security,  strength,  and  peace  (cxxi. 
iff. ;  cxxv.  if.).  The  Psalmists'  sympathy  with 
Nature  embraces  also  the  animal  life  that  gladdens 
these  scenes  :  the  cattle  browsing  upon  a  thousand 
hills  (1.  10),  the  sheep  on  the  green  pastures,  or 


144  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

resting  beside  the  still  waters,  or  foolishly  straying 
among  the  rough  places  and  into  the  dark  valleys, 
where  danger  lurks  (xxiii.  2ff.),  the  hind  panting 
after  the  water-brooks  (xlii.  i),  the  swallow  seeking 
a  nest  where  she  may  lay  her  young  (Ixxxiv.  3), 
the  eagle  soaring  in  renewed  strength  to  the  heavens 
(ciii.  5),  the  wild  asses  quenching  their  thirst  at  the 
streams  along  the  valleys,  the  birds  singing  in  the 
branches  overhead,  the  wild  goats  and  the  conies 
among  the  rocks  of  the  wilderness,  the  young  lions 
roaring  for  their  prey,  '  seeking  their  food  from 
God '  (civ.  iiff.),  the  trembling  dove  (Iv.  6),  the 
poor  captive  escaped  from  the  snare  of  the  fowlers 
(cxxiv.  7),  even  the  pelican  of  the  wilderness,  the 
owl  of  the  waste  places,  and  the  lonely  sparrow  on 
the  housetop  (cii.  6f.).  They  feel  the  full  spell, 
too,  of  the  wonders  of  the  heavens  and  the  deep. 
The  Psalmist  '  wakes  the  morn '  with  the  joyful 
notes  of  harp  and  lyre  (Ivii.  8)  ;  and  the  sight  of 
the  sun  rising  radiant  as  a  bridegroom  from  his 
wedding  canopy,  and  pressing  forward  with  the 
eager  delight  of  a  strong  man  to  run  a  race  (xix.  5), 
moves  him  to  strains  of  rapt  devotion.  And  at 
night-fall,  as  he  gazes  on  '  the  work  of  God's  fingers — 
the  moon  and  the  stars  which  He  has  established ' 
in  the  heavens,  he  sinks  his  head  in  wondering 
adoration,  feeling  how  '  resplendent '  is  God's  name 
in  all  the  earth  (viii.  sff.).      The  same  reverent  joy 


The  Glory  of  God  in  Nature     145 

in  presence  of  the  mighty  works  of  God — a  feeling 
which  meets  us  in  such  purity  nowhere  else  in 
ancient  literature — moves  the  poets  of  Israel  amid 
the  raging  of  the  storm,  when  the  Almighty  sends 
forth  His  hailstones  and  '  coals  of  fire  '  to  discomfit 
the  nations  (xviii.  I2ff.),  or  by  the  sounding  cata- 
ract, where  '  flood  answers  to  flood  in  the  roar  of 
God's  waterspouts '  (xliii.  7),^  and  beside  the  great 
deep,  when  the  abysmal  waters '  lift  up  their  voices,' 
and  seem  to  bid  defiance  even  to  Jahweh's  throne 
(xciii.  3).  But  the  language  of  the  Psalms  nowhere 
reaches  such  heights  of  natural  grandeur  as  in  the 
sublime  Song  of  the  Thunders  (xxix.  3ff.)^ — 

Jahweh's  voice  on  the  waters  ! 
Thunders  the  God  of  glory. 

*  The  scene  of  the  Psalm  is  placed  at  the  sources  of  the  Jordan, 
where,  in  the  spring-time,  after  the  melting  of  the  snows  of  Her- 
mon,  the  high  clifi  of  Paneas  becomes  a  mass  of  foaming  cascades, 
and  the  river  bursts  '  full-born  '  from  the  base,  the  whole  scene 
'  a  very  sanctuary  of  waters  '  (G.  A.  Smith,  Historical  Geography 
of  the  Holy  Land,  p.  474). 

'  Various  poetical  storm-pieces  have  come  down  from  Oriental 
antiquity,  the  most  justly  celebrated  being  the  description  of  the 
oncoming  flood  in  the  second  Deluge-Tablet,  and  Imru'1-Kais' 
brilliant  picture  of  the  Ughtning  at  the  close  of  his  Mu'allaka — 
'  Friend,  thou  seest  the  lightning.  Mark  where  it  wavereth, 
Gleameth  like  fingers  twisted,  clasped  in  the  cloud-rivers. 
Like  a  lamp  new-Ughted,  so  is  the  flash  of  it, 

Trimmed  by  a  hermit  nightly  pouring  oil-sesame,'  etc. 

(Blunt's  translation). 
But  neither  of  these  leads  us  so  truly  into  the  living  spirit  of  the 
storai  as  the  swift,  crashing  strokes  of  the  Hebrew  Psalm. 

XO 


146  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

Jahweh's  voice  on  the  mighty  waters, — 

Jahweh's  voice  in  strength,  Jahweh's  voice  in  majesty  I 

Jahweh's  voice  shatters  the  cedars, 

Jahweh  shatters  the  cedars  of  Lebanon. 
He  makes  Lebanon  skip  like  a  calf,  - 

And  Sir  ion  as  a  young  wild-ox. 

Jahweh's  voice  cleaveth  the  rocks, 

Jahweh  cleaves  them  with  blade  of  fire.'*' 
Jahweh's  voice  lasheth  the  desert, 

Jahweh  lasheth  the  desert  of  Kadesh. 

Jahweh's  voice  shivers  the  oaks,* 
Jahweh's  voice  strippeth  the  forests. 

In  this  reverent  feeling  for  Nature's  sublimer 
moods  we  touch  a  chord  that  is  almost  modern. 
The  Hebrew  poets  anticipate  the  deeper  thought 
of  the  present  likewise  in  their  sense  of  a  universal 
life  pulsing  through  the  heart  of  Nature.  In  the 
poetry  of  the  Old  Testament  there  are  but  faint 
traces  of  the  mythological  view  which  vivifies 
Nature,  indeed,  by  its  Divine  fellowship  of  nymphs 
and  graces,  and  gods  of  the  woods  and  mountains 
and  storms,  but  really  robs  her  of  her  own  essential 
life  by  transmitting  her  powers  to  these  Beings 
that  haunt  her  presence.  To  the  Psalmists  Nature 
throbbed  with  life  and  feeling.     There  was  a  spirit 


*  The  verse  in  the  Hebrew  is  unduly  shortened,  and  the  sense 
thus  rendered  dubious.  I  have  followed  Duhm  in  supplying 
'  rocks  '  as  the  object.  The  lightning  is  thus  finely  introduced 
as  the  '  blade  of  fire  '  wielded  by  the  Thunderer. 

*  Read  Jliy^?,  terebinths,  for  ni'pJX,  hinds,  to  secure  a  true 
parallelism. 


The  Glory  of  God  in  Nature     147 

in  Nature  that  linked  her  close  with  humanity.  In 
true  brotherly  sympathy  with  Nature — a  sympathy 
that  remained  almost  sealed  to  poetry  till  the  child- 
like heart  of  Blake  opened  once  more  the  flood- 
gates of  '  innocent '  imagination  ^ — they  pictured 
the  pasture-grounds  in  the  valleys  '  shouting  and 
singing  '  at  the  crowning  of  the  year  with  God's 
goodness  (Ixv.  13),  the  heavens  glad,  and  the  earth 
rejoicing,  the  sea  and  all  its  fulness  '  roaring  '  in 
joy,  the  fields  and  their  increase  '  exulting,'  the 
trees  of  the  wood  '  pealing  forth  their  notes  of  glad- 
ness '  (xcvi.  I  if.),  the  floods  '  clapping  their  hands/ 
and  the  hills  '  ringing  out  their  joyful  songs  to- 
gether '  before  Jahweh,  when  He  came  to  judge 
the  earth  (xcviii.  8f.),  the  very  mountains  '  skipping 
like  rams  '  and  the  hills  *  like  young  sheep  '  in 
presence  of  His  mighty  works  for  Israel  (cxiv.  4ff.). 
Thus  Nature  on  her  part  also  can  enter  into 
spiritual  sympathy  with  man.  The  Psalmists  see 
the  reflexion  of  their  own  changing  moods  in  Nature. 
The  ringing  shouts  of  the  pastures,  hills  and  floods 
are  heard  only  when  the  poet  himself  is  filled  with 
the  gladness  of  the  Lord.     When  the  dark  clouds 


*  '  V/hen  the  green  woods  laugh  with  the  voice  of  joy. 
And  the  dimpUng  stream  runs  laughing  by  ; 
When  the  air  does  laugh  with  our  merry  wit, 
And  the  green  hill  laughs  with  the  noise  of  it,'  etc. 

Laughing  Song 


148  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

sweep  over  his  head,  and  sorrows  surge  within  him. 
Nature  wears  a  different  garb.  The  plaint  of  the 
desolate  exile,  torn  from  the  sanctuary  round  which 
all  his  affections  twine,  and  feeling  the  taunt  of  his 
enemies  *  like  a  sword  in  his  bones,'  comes  fittingly 
from  '  the  land  of  the  Hermons/  where  the  cataracts 
of  the  Jordan  appear  like  the  '  waves  and  billows  ' 
of  God's  affliction  that  unceasingly  '  pour  over 
him  '  (xlii.  8f.).  And  if  the  gently  flowing  waters 
of  Siloah  harmonize  with  the  peace  of  the  hearts 
whose  trust  is  in  Jahweh  (xlvi.  4),  the  canals  of 
Babylon,  with  their  stagnant  waters  banked  by 
long  rows  of  weeping  willows,  seem  to  sympathize 
no  less  deeply  with  their  aching  despair  (cxxxvii. 
Iff.). 

This  harrriony  of  Nature  and  the  human  spirit 
reaches  its  fullest  expression  in  the  worship  of  God. 
Nature  is  but  a  humbler  brother  of  man.  For 
Jahweh  is  the  common  Father  of  both.  It  was 
He  that  in  the  beginning  '  threw  light  as  a  garment 
around  Him,'  and  '  stretched  out  the  heavens  as  a 
curtain,'  He  that  '  laid  the  foundations  of  the  earth,' 
and  '  covered  it  with  the  deep  as  a  vesture,'  He 
that  called  forth  the  mountains,  and  '  watered 
them  from  His  chambers  '  in  heaven,  making 

grass  to  grow  for  the  cattle. 
And  herb  for  the  service  of  man  ; 
Causing  bread  to  spring  from  the  earth. 
And  wine  to  gladden  man's  heart ; 


The  Glory  of  God  in  Nature     149 

Oil  that  his  face  may  sJiine, 
And  bread  to  strengthen  his  soul  (civ.  aff.). 

It  is  Jahweh,  too,  that  daily  upholds  the  world, 
and  guides  the  course  of  Nature.  Thus  all  things 
unite  in  the  song  of  Praise  :  the  sun  and  moon  and 
stars,  the  darkness  and  the  light  (xviii.  yH.),  the 
thunder  and  lightning  (xxix.),  the  mountains  and 
the  great  deep  (xxxvi.  6),  the  '  portals  of  morning 
and  evening,'  and  the  whole  glad  life  of  spring- 
time (Ixv.  8ff.),  the  sea  and  its  fulness,  the  field 
'  and  all  that  is  therein,'  with  '  all  the  trees  of  the 
wood '  (xcvi.  iif.),  '  the  multitude  of  the  isles  ' 
(xcvii.  i),  the  floods  and  the  hills  (xcviii.  8),  all 
lands  and  their  peoples  (c.  iff.),  with  the  angelic 
hosts  in  heaven  (cxlviii.  2).  As  it  draws  to  a  close, 
the  Psalter  calls  for  a  full  diapason  of  Praise  : — 

Praise  Jahweh  ! 

Praise  Jahweh  from  the  heavens. 

Praise  Him  in  the  heights  ! 
Praise  Him,  all  His  angels. 

Praise  Him,  all  His  hosts  I 

Praise  Him,  sun  and  moon. 

Praise  Him,  stars  of  light! 
Praise  Him,  heaven  of  heavens. 

And  waters  above  the  heavens  I 

Let  them  praise  the  name  of  Jahweh, 
For  He  spake,  and  they  were  fashioned. 

He  established  them  ever  and  for  ever. 
He  set  them  bounds  they  should  pass  not. 

Praise  Jahweh  from  the  earth. 
Sea-dragons  and  all  deeps! 


150  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

Fire,  hail,  snow  and  ice} 

The  storm-wind  fulfilling  His  word  I 

Ye  mountains,  and  all  hills, 

Fruit-trees,  and  cedars  all  I 
Wild  beasts,  and  all  cattle, 

Creeping  things,  and  birds  of  wing! 

Kings  of  the  earth,  and  all  peoples, 

Princes,  and  judges  all ! 
Young  men  and  maidens  too, 

Old  men  and  boys  I 

Let  them  praise  the  name  of  Jahweh, 

For  His  name  alone  is  exalted. 
O'er  heaven  and  earth  is  His  glory, 

His  praise  is  for  all  His  saints  *  (Ps.  cxiviii.). 

Thus  the  crowning  glory  of  Nature  is "  to 
radiate  the  light  of  the  Eternal.  To  the  Hebrews 
the  face  of  Nature  interposed  no  veil  between  the 
countenance  of  God  and  the  hearts  of  those  who 
sought  Him.  It  was  rather  a  shining  mirror  in 
which  they  could  trace  the  very  features  of  the 
Divine.  On  the  open  face  of  the  starry  skies  the 
poet  saw  how  '  resplendent  '  was  the  name  of  the 
God  he  worshipped  (viii.  iff.).  For  him,  too,  the 
morning  heavens  daily  '  recounted '  the  tale  of 
God's  glory.  Day  '  bubbled  over  with  speech ' 
while  it  passed  on  the  legend  to  the  day  succeeding, 
night  also  repeating  the  wondrous  tidings  to    its 

>  For  -|'"1D''P  read  nij?  (with  LXX). 

*  The  superfluous  words  which  confine  the  Song  to  Israel  are 
doubtless  appended  for  liturgical  purposes. 


The  Glory  of  God  in  Nature     151 

daughter  night.  And,  though  they  uttered  '  no 
speech  and  no  words,  no  voice  that  was  heard,' 

Through  all  the  earth  went  their  voice. 
And  their  words  to  the  end  of  the  world  (xix.  if.). 

To  the  simple  heart  the  majesty  of  the  heavens 
spoke  of  God's  eternal,  immeasurable  love,  as  the 
mountains  and  the  depths  proclaimed  His  righteous- 
ness (xxxvi.  5ff.).  Even  the  thunders  raised  men's 
thoughts  to  His  surpassing  glory  ;  for  the  roaring 
of  the  thunder  was  '  Jahweh's  voice,'  and  the  light- 
nings were  His  fiery  arrows  for  the  discomfiture  of 
the  wicked.  Thus  in  the  ears  of  the  Hebrew  poet 
the  noise  of  the  storm  blended  harmoniously  with 
the  song  of  the  angels  who  in  heaven  ascribed  unto 
Jahweh  '  glory  and  honour,'  and  equally  with 
the  prayers  of  the  saints  who  in  the  temple  below 
sought  the  blessings  of  strength  and  peace  for  His 
people  (xxix.  iff.).^  For  him  who  had  eyes  to  see 
the  vision  of  God's  glory,  the  whole  earth  was 
*  full  of  the  love  of  Jahweh  '  (xxxiii.  5).     He  knew 

*  Here  again  Blake  has  looked  out  upon  the  Universe  with 
essentially  the  same  feeUngs  as  the  Psalmist.  '  I  assert  for  my- 
self that  I  do  not  behold  the  outward  creation,  and  that  to  me  it 
is  hindrance,  and  not  action.  "  What  !  "  it  will  be  questioned, 
*•  when  the  sun  rises,  do  you  not  see  a  round  disk  of  fire  somewhat 
like  a  guinea  ?  "  Oh  !  no,  no  !  I  see  an  innumerable  com- 
pany of  the  heavenly  host,  crying,  "  Holy,  holy,  holy  is  the  Lord 
God  Almighty  ! "  I  question  not  my  corporeal  eye,  any  more 
than  I  would  question  a  window  concerning  a  sight.  I  look 
through  it,  and  not  with  it.' — A  Vision  of  the  Last  Judgment. 


152  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

that  the  Mighty  One  who  had  made  all  these  things 
had  His  eyes  fixed  on  those  that  feared  Him,  to 
save  them  from  evil,  and  bless  them  with  goodness 
all  the  days  of  their  life.  The  glad  spring  season 
was  especially  associated  with  thoughts  of  the  good- 
ness of  Jahweh  ;  for  He  it  was  that  then  '  visited 
the  earth,  and  watered  it '  with  rain  from  '  the 
river  of  God,  which  is  full  of  water,'  He  that  prepared 
the  ridges,  and  blessed  the  fertile  soil  with  abundance 
of  corn,  He  whose  footsteps  '  dripped  fatness ' 
wherever  He  trod  (Ixv.  gft.).  Even  when  the  floods 
raised  their  voices  in  wrath,  the  good  man  kept  his 
soul  in  peace.  For  God's  throne  was  established 
above  the  seas  ;  His  commanding  voice  rose  clear 
above  the  tumult  of  the  waters  (xciii.  3f.).  In  His 
hand  all  things  were  held  under  firm  control 
(xcv.  4ff.).  Therefore  His  people  might  raise  their 
'  new  songs  'of  joy  and  confidence  even  in  the 
darkest  hour  (xcvi.,  xcvii.,  etc.).  For  God's  power 
and  goodness  were  higher  even  than  the  heavens, 
— His  love  was  eternal  and  abiding  as  Himself. 

Of  old  hast  Thou  founded  the  earth. 

And  the  heavens  are  the  work  of  Thy  hands. 

They  shall  perish,  but  Thou  shall  abide  ; 
As  a  garment  shall  all  of  them  fade. 

They  shall  change  as  a  robe  that  Thou  changest ; 
But  Thou  art  the  same,  and  Thy  years  have  no  end 

(cii.  2Sfif.). 


CHAPTER   IX 

The  Image  of  God  in  Man 

It  has  been  seen  how  nearly  akin  Nature  is  to  human 
life.     God  is  the  common  Author  of  their  being,  and 
His  glory  shines  through  both  spheres.     Yet  man 
is  far  the  greatest  work  of  God.     In  the  cosmologies 
of  Genesis  he  is  created  last  of  all  things.     God's 
tenderest  care  is  centred  on  him.     The  breath  of 
God  is  breathed  into  his  nostrils,  and  he  becomes  a 
living  person  after  the  image  of  God  Himself,  and 
capable  of  enjoying  a  life  of  intimate  friendship 
with  the  Divine.     The  eighth  Psalm  is  the  poetical 
counterpart   of   these   cosmologies.     The   language 
shows  clear  marks  of  dependence  on  Gen.  i.     But 
the  whole  feeling  of  the  Psalm  is  poetic.     The  author 
builds  up  no  systematic  conception  of  human  nature* 
His  thought  of  man's  exalted  dignity  is  the  precipi- 
tate of  a  dazzling  impression  of  God's  glory  jn  Nature. 
He  looks  up  to  the  starry  skies,  and  is  moved  with 
holy  awe  as  he  sees  the  '  splendour  '  of  the  Divine 
name  mirrored  over  the  face  of  the  heavens.     In  a 
sudden  shock  of  reaction  he  feels  how  mean  and 


154  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

frail  human  nature  is,  compared  with  the  Divine 
glory  of  moon  and  stars. 

When  I  see  the  work  of  Thy  fingers. 

Moon  and  stars  that  Thou  hast  established. 

What  is  man  that  Thou  thinkest  of  him. 
Or  man's  son,  that  Thou  visitest  him  ?  * 

Yet  human  nature  asserts  its  Godlike  dignity  against 
the  first  humbling  impression  of  its  meanness.  The 
wonder  is,  not  that  man  is  so  frail  a  being,  but  that, 
in  spite  of  his  frailty  and  lowliness,  God  has  been 
mindful  of  him,  and  visited  him  in  His  love  and 
goodness  ;  that  God  has  made  him  but  little  lower 
than  Himself,  and  crowned  him  with  His  own  Divine 
glory  and  majesty,  giving  him  dominion  over  all 
His  works. 

Thou  hast  made  him  but  lower  than  God, 

With  glory  and  honour  hast  crowned  him  ; 
O'er  the  work  of  Thy  hands  Thou  hast  placed  him. 

Put  all  things  under  his  feet. 
The  sheep  and  the  oxen,  all  of  them. 

Likewise  the  beasts  of  the  field  ; 
The  birds,  and  the  fish  of  the  sea. 

All  that  pass  through  the  paths  of  the  water. 

And  now  with  far  richer  tones  the  poet  sings  anew 
the  opening  strain  : — 

Jahweh,  our  Lord,  how  resplendent 
Thy  name  in  all  the  earth  ! 

Thus,  to  the  Psalmist  also,  man  is  essentially  the 

*  In  the  first  stichos  of  the  verse  omit  the  superfluous  and  un- 
metrical  ^^DK'.  The  word  for  '  man  '  in  the  third  stichos  is  tJ'iJNj 
implying  weakness,  etc. 


The  Image  of  God  in  Man     155 

friend  of  the  living  God,  who  reaches  his  true  perfec- 
tion only  in  the  conscious  enjoyment  of  this  friend- 
ship. The  same  ideal  is  upheld  through  the  Psalms 
in  various  other  images.  Man  is  the  ger  or  '  guest  * 
of  Jahweh,  whose  privilege  it  is  to  live  near  His 
presence  (xv.  i),  one  of  Jahweh's  sheep,  whom  the 
good  Shepherd  desires  to  lead  in  the  ways  of  right 
and  truth  (xxiii.  iff.),  a  child  of  the  everlasting 
Father,  on  whom  He  lavishes  His  love  and  pity  (ciii. 
13).  The  supreme  moments  in  his  life,  then,  are 
those  in  which  he  enjoys  most  fully  the  sense  of  the 
Father's  nearness  and  love.  To  the  ancient  Hebrews 
God  drew  closest  in  the  Temple,  the  home  He  had 
chosen  for  His  own,  and  to  which  He  invited  the 
approaches  of  His  faithful  people.  And,  all  along, 
the  Temple  remained  the  centre  of  their  deepest 
affections  and  desires.  The  one  thing  they  '  sought 
after '  was 

To  gaze  on  the  beauty  of  Jahweh, 

And  delight  in  His  temple  (xxvii.  4). 

The  crowning  sorrow  of  the  Exile  was  that  they 
could  no  longer  go  with  the  joyful  throngs  to  keep 
holy-day  in  the  house  of  God.  From  the  distant 
lands  of  their  wandering  many  a  thirsty  soul '  panted 
after  the  living  God,'  as  '  the  hind  after  the  water- 
brooks,'  praying  to  God  to  send  them  '  His  light 
and  His  truth,'  to  guide  them  back  to  His  holy  hill, 
where  His  dwellings  were,  that  once  more  they  might 


156  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

visit  the  altar  of  God,  '  the  God  of  their  joy,'  and 
praise  Him  with  song  and  harp,  as  in  days  of  yore 
(xlii.,  xliii.).  When  Jahweh  at  length  '  restored  the 
captives  of  Zion,'  their  chief  delight  was  to  see  the 
Temple  rebuilt  in  its  beauty,  the  earthly  focus  of 
their  worship  and  aspirations.  A  swelling  note  of 
gladness  rings  through  the  '  new  songs  '  of  Restora- 
tion. And  this  joy  was  shared  by  the  '  sons  of 
Israel '  throughout  the  land.  From  their  village 
homes  they  thought  with  tender  affection  of  the 
Temple  of  the  Lord  in  Zion.  The  true  home  of 
their  spirits,  they  felt,  was  there.  As  the  birds  had 
their  nests,  so  had  the  people  of  Jahweh  their 
spiritual  resting-place  around  the  altars  of  their 
God,  How  happy  the  lot  of  those  who  passed  all 
their  days  in  His  house,  ever  praising  Him,  and 
worshipping  at  His  altars  !  How  happy,  too,  the 
pilgrim  bands  that  enjoyed  but  one  day  in  the  courts 
of  Jahweh  !  The  very  march  to  Zion  was  a  con- 
stant renewal  of  strength.  With  the  thought  of  their 
pilgrimage  at  heart,  the  valleys  of  weeping  became 
places  of  springs,  and  the  desert  lands  were  gladdened 
with  pools.  And  the  day  they  spent  in  Jahweh's 
courts  was  better  than  a  thousand  common  days. 
For  then  they  looked  on  Jahweh's  face,  and  saw,  if 
for  a  moment  only,  the  glory  of  the  Eternal. 

How  dear  is  Thy  dwelling-place, 
Jahweh  of  hosts  ! 


The  Image  of  God  in  Man    157 

My  soul  longeth,  yea,  fainleth 

For  Jahweh's  courts  ; 
My  heart  and  my  flesh  cry  out 

For  the  living  God. 

Even  the  sparrow  hath  found  an  house. 

And  the  swallow  a  nest. 
Where  she  maketh  a  home  for  herself. 

And  layeth  her  young. 

My  home  is  by  Jahweh's  altars. 

My  King  and  my  God.''- 
Happy  they  that  dwell  in  Thy  house  I 

Ever  they  praise  Thee. 

Happy  the  man  whom  Thou  strengthenst^ 
In  whose  heart  are  the  pilgvim-ways  I 

Passing  through  Baca's  valley. 
He  makes  it  a  well-head. 

With  pools,*  too,  the  early  rain 

Covers  the  desert. 
So  march  they  from  strength  to  strength. 

They  see  God  in  Zion. 

O  Lord  God  of  hosts,  hear  my  prayer. 

Give  ear,  God  of  Jacob  ! 
Jahweh,  look  on  our  Shield,^ 

Behold  our  Anointed ! 

Better  a  day  in  Thy  courts 

Than  a  thousand  without,^— 
To  keep  threshold  in  Jahweh's  house. 

Than  dwell  with  the  iviched. 

*  There  is  evidently  a  hiatus  in  the  Hebrew  text.  The  point 
of  comparison  is  in  the  idea  of  home.  In  the  translation  this 
idea  has  been  filled  in. 

'  For  ni3"13,  blessings,  read  01313,  pools. 
'  The  '  shield  '  is  clearly  parallel  with  '  anointed,'  referring  to 
the  king,  actual  or  ideal. 

*  I  have  followed  BickeH  in  reading  y^H^  for  ^J^IH^,  and  at- 
taching the  word  to  the  clause  preceding.  This  gives  us  a  better 
seiiee,  besides  making  the  two  lines  normal. 


158  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

Foy  Jahweh's  a  Sun  and  Shield  ; 

Grace  and  glory  He  gives. 
No  good  thing  does  He  withhold 

From  them  that  walk  upright. 

O  Jahweh  of  hosts  ! 

Happy  the  man  that  tnisteth  in  Thee  !  (Ps.  Ixxxiv.), 

But  the  presence  of  God  was  not  confined  to  the 
Temple.  Through  the  teaching  of  the  prophets 
Israel  had  learned  that  He  dwelt  also  with  the  pure 
and  humble  in  heart.  And  the  Psalms  are  full  of 
this  thought.  The  worship  of  the  Temple  was  itself 
valuable  only  as  it  expressed  the  heart-felt  gratitude 
and  aspirations  of  the  worshipper,  and  lifted  him 
beyond  the  outward  rites  to  the  living  presence  of 
his  God.  The  devout  spirit  delighted  in  the  Temple 
because  there  he  saw  '  the  face  of  God.'  But  the 
vision  of  God  came  likewise  in  the  open  courts  of 
Nature,  and  in  man's  own  heart  and  conscience. 
God  was  at  all  times  near  to  those  who  loved  Him. 
He  stood  '  at  their  right  hand,'  ready  to  help  and 
save  them  ;  His  eyes  were  ever  bent  upon  them  in 
tender  love  and  mercy,  and  His  ears  lay  open  to 
their  cry.  They  too  '  abode  before  God  for  ever ' 
(Ixi.  7),  their  eyes  upturned  to  Him  '  as  the  eyes  of 
servants  to  the  hand  of  their  master  '  (cxxiii.  2). 
They  were  admitted  even  to  '  the  secret  place  '  of 
the  Most  High,  to  share  His  deepest  intimacies 
(xxv.  14;  xci.  i).  In  a  few  Psalms  there  is  found 
a  real  prophetic  depreciation  of  ritual.    The  Lord 


The  Image  of  God  in  Man    159 

God  desires  not  sacrifice  or  offering,  but  thanksgiv- 
ing, obedience,  sincerity,  contrition,  and  prayer  (xl. 
6ff. ;  1.  8ff.  ;  li.  i6f.).  For  the  soul  of  worship — 
the  heart  and  life  of  religion — is  prayer — the  com- 
munion of  the  living  spirit  of  man  with  the  God 
who  is  spirit  and  truth. 

The  uplift  of  the  heart  to  God  is  in  deep  reverence. 
For  God  is  Holy,  and  the  best  of  men  are  weak  and 
sinful  in  His  sight.  Thus  the  attitude  of  '  fear  ' 
becomes  the  servant  of  God.  That  indeed  which 
primarily  distinguishes  the  good  man  from  the 
wicked  is  '  the  fear  of  God  before  his  eyes  '  (xxxvi. 
i).  But  in  the  Psalms  fear  blends  with  perfect  con- 
fidence, love  and  joy.  There  is  nothing  here  of  that 
sombre  gravity  and  sourness  of  spirit  which  good 
Christian  people  have  often  associated  with  piety. 
The  Psalter  rings  throughout  with  the  notes  of 
triumphant  gladness.  Not  alone  amid  the  festal 
delights  of  worship,  but  in  the  home,  and  in  the  in- 
most sanctuary  of  the  heart,  Jahweh  poured  joy 
upon  His  people,  '  more  than  that  for  the  increase  of 
corn  and  wine  '  (iv.  7).  His  love  filled  the  whole 
round  of  life  with  gladness.  Even  His  fear  was 
the  good  man's  delight  (i.  2).^ 

And  this  joy  in  God  is  anything  but  evanescent 
emotion.    The  man  whose  delight  was  in  the  fear 

1  To  avoid  the  double  nii?1,  most  modern  scholars  read  '*  HX"!*? 
his  delight  is  in  the  fear  of  Jahweh 


i6o  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

oi  Jahweh  likewise  '  pored  over  His  law  ' — His 
revealed  will  and  purpose — '  both  day  and  night ' 
(i.  2),  that  He  might  learn  His  precepts,  and  become 
more  like  Him  in  spirit.  For  God's  desire  was  that 
His  people  should  be  moulded  into  His  perfect 
image.  The  Psalmists  shrink  not  from  investing 
the  good  man  with  God's  own  attributes.  The 
crowning  '  glory  and  honour  *  that  God  has  lavished 
on  His  children  are  found  in  moral  personality. 
Thus  the  traits  of  the  good  man's  character  are  a 
real  transcript  of  God's.  The  root  of  his  goodness, 
too,  is  *  truth  in  the  inward  parts  '  (li.  6),  loyalty  of 
heart  and  soul  to  what  is  noble  and  right.  And 
in  man  also  truth  finds  its  fruitage  in  righteousness 
and  love.  The  good  man  directs  his  steps  on  the 
straight,  plain  paths  of  honour  and  rectitude.  '  He 
walketh  uprightly,  and  worketh  right,  and  speaketh 
the  truth  in  his  heart '  (xv.  2).  Like  the  Lord  he 
serves,  he  is  '  perfect  '  in  thought  and  deed  (xviii. 
23  ;  ci.  2ff.,  etc.).  His  hands  are  clean,  and  his 
heart  is  pure,  set  not  on  vanities,  but  on  real  worth 
and  goodness  (xxiv.  4) .  But  above  all  he  is  gracious 
and  loving.  The  Hebrew  counterpart  to  the  Greek 
ideal  of  6  Kd\o<i  Kdya6Q<;,  the  finely  polished  gentle- 
man, is  hdsid,  the  adjective  derived  from  hesed, 
'  love,'  that  is,  the  man  of  love.  As  God  is  love, 
the  good  man  is  likewise  a  lover  both  of  God  and  of 
his  fellow-men.     His  love  is,  indeed,  the  pure  reflec- 


The  Image  of  God  in  Man    i6i 

tion  of  God's — tender  and  true  and  active  as  His  is. 
For  in  no  other  ancient  religion  are  the  fear  and  love 
of  God  so  indissolubly  wedded  to  moral  conduct, 
and  the  thoughts  and  ways  of  God  so  consciously 
made  the  pattern  of  His  children's  character.  Yet 
nowhere  is  morality  brought  more  closely  to  the 
touchstone  of  common  life  than  in  this  same  faith. 
The  goodness  of  Jahweh's  people  is  manifested  not  in 
the  clouds,  nor  in  some  distant  Utopia,  but  on  the 
common  paths  of  daily  life,  in  their  varied  relations 
as  friends  and  neighbours  and  business  men.  He 
alone  is  admitted  to  be  Jahweh's  ger,  His  guest 
or  friend — to  sojourn  in  His  tent,  and  enjoy  His 
intimacies  and  affection — who 

doeth  no  ill  to  his  fellow, 
Nor  lifteth  reproach  'gainst  his  neighbour  ; 

In  whose  eyes  the  vile  are  despised. 
But  the  fearers  of  Jahweh  he  honours  ; 

He  that  swears  to  his  hurt,  and  will  change  not. 
And  puts  not  his  money  to  tisury  (xv.  3ff.). 

The  wicked  man  was  full  of  deceit  and  cruelty,  his 
heart  hardened  against  the  poor,  his  bowels  of  com- 
passion shut  upon  the  needy  and  suffering,  even  upon 
the  friend  who  had  rendered  him  sympathy  and 
kindness,  but  was  now  fallen  on  evil  days.  The 
righteous  was  true  and  kind  and  charitable  to  all. 
In  perfect  sincerity  of  heart,  he  dealt  honestly  in 
the  law-courts  and  the  market.  He  was  the  con- 
stant friend  of  the  poor,  gracious  in  word,  and  will- 

II 


1 6  2  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

ing  to  lend  in  times  of  need  (xxxvii.  21 ;  xli.  i,  etc.). 
With  his  neighbours  in  their  trouble  he  was  a  true 
sympathizer. 

In  their  sickness  I  clothed  me  ivith  sackcloth. 

Afflicting  my  soul ; 
I  prayed  with  my  head  in  my  bosom. 

As  'twere  for  a  brother  ; 
Downcast  I  walked  in  weeds, 

As  though  mourning  a  mother  (xxxv.  I3f.). 

The  Psalmists'  moral  horizon  is,  no  doubt,  bounded 
mainly  by  the  narrow  limits  of  their  people,  or  even 
the  immediate  circle  of  the  righteous.  And  too 
many  expressions  of  savage  hatred  and  malice,  and 
relentless  vengeance  against  the  enem^^  escape  the 
barrier  of  their  lips.  But  there  is  found  an  approach, 
at  least,  to  the  Christian  principle  of  love.  For, 
while  the  wicked  returned  evil  for  good,  the  friend 
of  God  could  raise  his  hands  to  heaven,  and  protest  : 

If  ill  I  have  done  to  my  friend. 

Or  have  injured  my  foe  without  cause, ^ 

Let  the  oppressor  pursue  my  soul. 

Catch  me  up,  crush  my  life  to  the  ground, 
And  my  glory  lay  low  in  the  dust!  (vii.  4!.). 

This  elevation  of  human  life  to  the  spiritual  plane 
where  God  reigned  in  righteousness  imparted  to  it 
a  wonderful  freedom  and  peace.  The  secret  of 
Jahweh  was  with  them  that  feared  Him  ;  thus  their 

^  For  the  meaningless  nypPINII  read  nvnpstj,  withthePeshitta 
andTargums.  The  closing  wordDj^^"!.,  without  cause,  is  connected 
with  n")"'^*.  U I  have  injured  one  that  without  cause  was  my  foe,  etc. 


The  Image  of  God  in  Man     163 

soul  could  '  dwell  at  ease,'  delivered  from  all  other 
fears  (xxv.  13).  The  good  man  knew  that  his  times 
were  in  God's  hand  (xxxi.  15)  ;  therefore,  even  when 
wicked  men  pursued  him,  and  seemed  to  hold  his 
life  in  their  hands,  he  could  lay  him  down  and  sleep, 
for  Jahweh  made  him  to  dwell  in  safety  (iv.  8,  etc.). 
In  the  midst  of  straits  and  dangers  he  yet  felt  that 
Jahweh  had  '  set  his  feet  in  a  large  place  '  (xxxi.  8). 
In  darkness  he  looked  to  God,  and  was  '  lightened,' 
and  his  face  was  no  more  put  to  the  blush  (xxxiv.  5). 
His  burdens  he  cast  on  Jahweh,  and  found  himself 
'sustained'  and  kept  from  stumbling  (Iv.  22). 
From  the  worship  of  the  sanctuary  he  returned  with 
God's  blessing  in  his  heart,  assured  of  acceptance 
(xxiv.  5).  And  the  Law  that  in  after  days,  when 
its  real  spirit  had  fled,  proved  so  grievous  a  burden 
to  earnest  souls,  was  for  him  a  very  well-spring  of 
refreshment  and  delight. 

The  law  of  the  Lord  is  perfect. 

Refreshing  the  soul  ; 
The  testimony  of  the  Lord  is  sure. 

Making  wise  the  simple. 

The  precepts  of  ihe  Lord  are  right, 

Rejoicing  the  heart  ; 
The  commandment  of  the  Lord  is  pitrs^ 

Enlightening  the  eyes. 

The  fear  of  the  Lord  is  clean. 

Enduring  for  ever  ; 
The  judgments  of  the  Lord  are  truth. 

They  are  righteous  altogether, — 


164  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

More  10  be  desired  than  gold, 

Yea,  than  much  fine  gold  ; 
Sweeter  also  than  honey, 

Even  the  droppings  of  the  comb  (xix.  yfi.). 

The  one  hundred  and  nineteenth  Psalm  is  one  long 
song  of  joy  in  the  Law — celebrating  the  perfect  bliss 
and  enlargement  of  heart  of  those  who  keep  it  in 
sincerity. 

O  happy  they  that  are  perfect  in  the  way, 

That  walk  in  the  law  of  the  Lord  ; 
Happy  they  that  keep  His    testimonies. 

That  seek  Him  with  all  their  heart  !  [vv.    if.). 

For  not  merely  are  they  preserved  from  evil  ways* 
but  they  find  in  the  Law  a  delight  which  '  all  riches 
cannot  give  '  [vv.  14,  16,  24,  etc.).  With  His  precepts 
in  their  heart,  the  servants  of  God  reach  their  true 
spiritual  freedom. 

I  shall  walk  in  a  broad  place  ; 

For  I  have  sought  Thy  precepts  {v.  45). 

The  word  of  the  Lord  is  their  comfort  in  affliction, 
their  trust  in  the  day  of  the  wicked's  triumph,  their 
song  in  the  house  of  their  sojourning  {vv.  49ff.). 
His  law  is  their  enduring  peace  and  security. 

Great  peace  have  they  that  love  Thy    law  ; 
For  them  there  is  no  stumbling  [v.  165). 

This  inward  freedom  and  security  are  reflected 
in  the  good  man's  outward  life.  For  it  was  the  car- 
dinal postulate  of  Israel's  creed  that  goodness  was 
the  pathway  to  happiness  and  prosperity. 


The  Image  of  God  in  Man    165 

Who  is  the  man  that  delighteth  in  life, 
That  loveth  long  days,  to  see  good  fortune  ? 

Hold  then  thy  tongue  from  evil, 
And  thy  lips  from  speaking  deceit. 

Depart  from  evil,  and  do  what  is  good  ; 
Seek  peace,  and  pursue  it  (xxxiv.  laff.). 

The  Psalmists  draw  charming  pictures  of  the  pros- 
perity of  the  good.  The  Book  opens  with  the  excla- 
mation of  wondering  joy,  '  O  the  bliss  of  the  man 
.  .  .  whose  delight  is  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord  '  (i.  if.), 
and  likens  him  to  the  tree  planted  by  streams  of 
water,  that  yieldeth  its  fruit  in  season,  and  whose 
leaf  doth  not  fade.  And  the  whole  tenor  of  the 
Psalter  is  in  harmony  with  this  note  of  joy.  The 
man  who  doeth  God's  will  shall  never  be  moved  (xv. 
5),  nor  ever  left  in  want. 

/  have  been  young,  and  now  am  old. 

But  have  not  seen  the  righteous  man  forsaken  (xxxvii.  25). 

In  days  of  famine  and  pestilence  a  thousand  might 
all  by  his  side,  and  ten  thousand  at  his  right  hand  ; 
but  no  trouble  should  strike  on  him,  nor  plague  come 
near  his  tent :  for  Jahweh  would  give  His  angels 
charge  over  him,  to  keep  him  in  all  his  ways  (xci. 
5ff.).  The  home  of  the  good  man  was  a  true  sanc- 
tuary of  the  Divine  love  and  blessing.  In  joy  of 
heart  he  ate  of  the  labour  of  his  hands,  and  saw 
around  his  table  sons  and  daughters  clustering  like 
young  olive  plants  (cxxviii.  2f.).  With  his  brethren, 
too.  he  dwelt  in  the  happiest  harmony  and  affection 


1 66  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

(cxxxiii.  iff.).  Thus  to  old  age  he  experienced 
'  fulness  of  joy,'  until  in  the  ripe  maturity  of  life  he 
was  gathered  in  peace  to  his  fathers,  feeling  that 
God's  goodness  and  love  had  indeed  pursued  him 
'  all  the  days  of  his  life.'  And  though  he  dared  not 
yet  hope  for  personal  immortality,  his  seed  continued 
to  inherit  the  land,  and  his  name  was  had  '  in  ever- 
lasting remembrance,'  a  glory  and  blessing  to  all 
who  came  after  him  (xxv.  13  ;  Ixix.  36  ;  cii.  28  ;  cxii. 
6,  etc.). 


CHAPTER    X 

Life  and    Immortality 

In  the  pictures  just  drawn  of  the  good  man 
and  his  blessedness,  there  is  a  certain  youthful 
naivete.  It  is  obvious  that  the  Psalmists  include 
themselves  among  the  '  perfect '  men  who  walk  be- 
fore Jahweh  in  integrity.  Their  assertions  of  inno- 
cence sometimes  even  startle  us  by  their  boldness. 
But  there  is  nothing  as  yet  resembling  the  self- 
righteousness  of  the  Pharisee  who  thanked  God  he 
was  not  as  other  men.  The  conscience  of  the  Psalm- 
ists was  simple  and  transparent,  their  hearts  open 
and  guileless  as  those  of  little  children,  who  sincerely 
love  the  Lord  their  God,  without  any  deep  convic- 
tion of  sin  and  redeeming  grace.  Their  world,  too, 
was  like  that  of  children,  to  whose  e^'es  all  things 
are  painted  in  golden  glory,  and  for  whom  the  Father 
in  heaven  dispenses  goodness  and  mercy  in  the  way 
they  wish  and  ask. 

In  two  different  ways  this  child-like  confidence  is 
broken  through.  And  the  Psalmists  thereby  rise 
to  nobler  thoughts  of  the  Divine  love,  and  wider 
visions  also  of  man's  immortal  destiny. 

187 


1 6  8  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

The  one  shock  came  from  the  awakening  sense  of 
sin.  In  their  exposure  of  the  hidden  canker  of  evil, 
the  Penitential  Psalms  of  the  Old  Testament  cut 
deeper  into  the  heart  than  even  the  most  piercing 
religious  poetry  of  other  nations.  ^  But  from  their 
very  depths  they  soar  to  regions  of  spiritual  rapture 
undreamt  of  by  more  tranquil  faith. 

The  first  great  utterance  of  sinful  conscience  is 
found  in  Psalm  xxxii.  The  poet  has  fallen  into 
gross  sin.  And  at  once  his  joyful  friendship  with 
God  passes  into  dark  distrust  and  shrinking  dread. 
For  a  while  he  seeks  to  bury  his  sin  in  silence.  But 
the  voice  of  God  in  conscience  goads  him  almost  to 
madness.  All  this  time,  too,  God's  hand  lies  heavy 
on  him  through  a  feverish  sickness  that  changes 
the  fresh,  sweet  sap  of  life  into  burning  drought 
and  pain. 

While  I  kept  silence,  my  bones  did  moulder 

Through  my  gtoaning  all  day  long  ; 
For  day  and  night  Thy  hand  was  heavy  upon  me  ; 

My  moisture  was  turned  into  summer's  drought  {vv.  3f.). 

In  his  anguish  he  was  moved  to  confess  his  sin  ; 
and  at  the  first  stirrings  of  his  better  self,  when  he 
had  now  resolved  to  lay  bare  his  heart,  but  the  words 

^  These  Psalms  have  often  been  compared  with  the  Penitential 
Hymns  of  Babylonia.  But  even  in  the  most  spiritual  prayers 
of  Babylonian  poets  the  sense  of  guilt  is  inspired  not  by  the  ethical 
struggle  for  a  purer  life,  but  by  the  presence  of  misfortunes  attri- 
buted to  the  anger  of  the  gods. 


Life  and   Immortaiity        169 

were  as  yet  hardly  on  his  lips,  the  dry  fevered  frame 
was  bathed  in  a  sudden  inrush  of  joyous  feeling — 
the  sweet  bliss  of  forgiveness. 

My  sin  I  acknowledged  to  Thee, 

And  my  guilt  I  covered  no  more. 
I  said,  I'll  make  known  my  transgression  to  Jahweh  ; 

And  Thou  didst  remove  the  guilt  of  my  sin  {v.  5). 

Thus  the  Psalmist  learned  that  God's  love  was  re- 
vealed in  its  boundless  perfection  through  the  very 
sins  and  failures  of  His  children.  And  the  Psalm 
opens  and  ends  in  bursts  of  triumphal  music  :— 

O  happy  the  man  whose  transgression  is  removed. 

Whose  sin  is  covered  ! 
Happy  the  man  against  whom  Jahweh  reckons  no  guilt, ^ 

In  whose  spirit  is  no  deceit. 

*  *  »  * 

To  the  wicked  are  many  sorrows  ; 

But  he  that  trusteth  in  Jahweh — love  shall  encompass  him  round 
Rejoice  then  in  Jahweh  ;  exult,  ye  righteous  ; 

And  sing  loud  for  joy,  all  ye  that  are  upright  of  heart  ! 

In  that  most  searching  of  all  the  Psalms  of  peni- 
tence (Ps.  li.)  still  deeper  notes  are  sounded.  The 
Psalmist  has  sinned  almost  beyond  redemption. 
And,  however  he  may  try  to  shut  his  eyes  to  his  sin, 
it  stares  him  ever  in  the  face,  haunting  him  sleeping 

^  Of  the  three  terms  here  used  for  '  sin,'  yL'%,  transgression , 
isliterally '  rebellion,' nXDH,  sin,  '  a  missing  of  the  way,'  and  jiy, 
guilt,  'perversion  of  the  heart'  (from  right).  In  like  manner, 
the  three  words  for  'forgiveness,'  N'J'J,  nOB.and  2l^•^^^^''.  imply 
severally  the  lifting  of  a  burden,  the  covering  over  of  uncleanness 
and  the  wiping  out  of  a  debt  from  the  ledger. 


170  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

and  waking.  So  thoroughly  has  the  poison  of  sin 
infected  his  being  that  he  feels  himself  soaked  in 
sin  from  his  very  conception.  There  is  no  hope 
for  restoration  save  in  the  love  and  compassion  of 
the  God  against  whom  alone  he  has  sinned.  And 
the  Psalm  is  one  unwearying  prayer  for  forgiveness, 
cleansing,  and  newness  of  life.  We  hear  not  yet 
the  major  tones  of  Ps.  xxxii.  The  Psalmist  is  still 
struggling  through  the  depths  of  contrition.  But  he 
has  a  richer  sense  of  all  that  forgiveness  implies 
than  even  his  brother  poet. 

Purge  me  with  hyssop,  that  I  may  be  clean  ; 

Wash  me,  that  I  may  be  whiter  than  snow  I 
Make  me  to  hear  gladness  and  joy, 

That  the  bones  Thou  hast  crushed  may  exult  I 
Hide  Thy  face  from  my  sins. 

And  blot  out  all  mine  iniquities. 
Create  me  a  clean  heart,  O  God  ; 

And  a  stedfast  spirit  within  me  renew. 
Cast  me  not  off  from  Thy  face. 

And  Thy  holy  spirit  remove  not  from  me. 
Restore  me  the  joy  of  Thy  salvation  ; 

And  with  a  willing  spirit  sustain  Thou  7ns. 
So  shall  I  teach  transgressors  Thy  way, 

And  sinners  shall  turn  unto  Thee. 
From  bloodshed,  O  God,  do  Thou  save  me. 

That  my  tongue  may  ring  out  Thy  righteousness 
O  Lord,  open  Thou  my  lips. 

That  my  mouth  may  declare  Thy  praise  ! 
For  no  delight  dost  Thou  take  in  sacrifice  ; 

Should  I  give  Thee  burnt-offering.  Thou  would' st  not  accept  it 
The  sacrifices  of  God  are  a  broken  spirit; 

The  contrite  heart,  0  God,  Thou  wilt  not  despise  [vv.  yff.)- 

But  actual  lapse  into  sin  was  not  the  only  expen- 


Life  and  Immortality        171 

ence  that  awakened  the  consciousness  of  sin.  It  is 
usually  the  best  of  men  who  feel  themselves  '  the 
chief  of  sinners.'  With  the  growing  vision  of  God's 
Infinite  holiness,  their  knowledge  of  their  own  weak 
and  erring  natures  is  deepened,  and  they  become 
continually  more  sensitive  to  the  '  plague  of  their 
hearts.'  Thus  the  very  Law  that  was  so  rich  a  foun- 
tain of  delight  and  quickening  of  life  proved  from 
another  side  the  revelation  of  sin.  As  pure  sunshine 
throws  the  darkness  into  blacker  relief,  the  clear 
radiance  of  God's  law  exposed  the  '  hidden  faults '  of 
the  soul,  and  unveiled  the  full  enormity  of  the  '  pre- 
sumptuous '  or  '  swelling  '  sins  of  the  proud  (xix.  I2f .). 
Thus  also  in  Ps.  xxv.,  the  quiet  meditations  of  a 
trustful  spirit,  the  glad  notes  of  steadfast  faith  and 
integrity  are  blended  in  minor  harmony  with  the 
accents  of  humble  confession  and  entreaty. 

Remember  Thy  mercies,  0  Lord, 

Thy  loving  deeds  from  of  old. 
Recall  not  Ike  sins  of  my  youth  ; 

But  after  Thy  love  do  Thou  think  of  me 
Good  and  upright  is  Jahweh  ; 

He  will  teach  sinners  the  way. 
The  meek  will  He  lead  aright. 

And  the  humble  instruct  in  His  way. 
All  His  paths  are  love  and  truth, 

If  7nen  keep  His  precepts  and  covenant. 
For  Thine  own  name's  sake,  O  Jahweh, 

Pardon  my  guilt,  for  'tis  great  I  {vu.  6ff.). 

The  same  reaction  of  quickened  knowledge  upon  the 


172  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

sensitive  conscience  is  felt  in  the  noble  Psalm  of 
God's  Eternal  Presence  (xc),  where  over  against  His 
exalted,  everlasting  holiness  are  set  the  shortness 
and  frailties  of  human  life. 

For  we  are  consumed  in  Thine  anger. 

We  are  benumbed  in  Thy  wrath  ; 
Thou  hast  placed  our  iniquities  before  Thee, 

Our  secret  sins  in  the  light  of  Thy  face  [v.  ji.). 

But  the  Psalm  ends  not  in  minor  thoughts  like  these. 
Here,  too,  we  may  miss  the  note  of  triumph  that 
breaks  through  the  anguish  of  Ps.  xxxii.  But  the 
Psalmist  knows  that  the  Eternal  God  is  Love,  and 
though  meantime  he  is  oppressed  by  the  sense  of 
man's  weakness,  sin  and  mortality,  he  feels  that 
God  will  yet  scatter  the  shadows,  and  make  His 
light  shine  full  upon  His  servants'  faces. 

Return,  Jahweh  !    How  long  ? 

And  repent  Thee  concerning  Thy  servants. 
Satisfy  us  early  with  Thy  love, 

That  we  may  sing,  and  be  glad  all  our  days. 
Make  us  glad  by  the  days  Thou  hast  humbled  us. 

And  the  years  in  which  ill  we  have  seen. 
Let  Thy  work  be  seen  of  Thy  servants, 

And  Thy  glory  shine  out  on  their  children. 
Let  the  sweetness  of  Jahweh  brood  o'er  us  ; 

And  establish  the  work  of  our  hands  [vv.  I3flf.). 

If  the  conflict  of  conscience  with  the  torturing 
sense  of  sin  and  guilt  thus  raised  the  Psalmists  above 
their  old  self-confidence  to  the  spacious  heavens  of  a 
Father's   love,   their   moral   horizon   was   equally 


Life  and  Immortality       173 

widened  by  fierce  struggling  with  the  darker  mys- 
teries of  Providence.  The  fond  imaginings  of  child- 
ish faith  had  pictured  the  moral  world  as  a  sunny 
Paradise  where  good  men  lived  and  walked  together 
in  perfect  honesty  and  trust,  enjoying  the  favours 
of  Jahweh  in  unstinting  fulness.  But,  with  the 
growing  complexity  of  life,  keen  questionings  op- 
pressed them.  Over  against  their  innocent  Paradise 
rose  the  dark  realm  of  evil.  If  the  good  man's 
delight  was  in  the  fear  of  God,  there  were  wicked 
men  around  them  who  said  in  their  hearts  there  was 
no  God,  and  pursued  their  evil  purposes  irrespective 
of  moral  issues.  With  no  conscience  in  their  breasts 
— an  '  oracle  of  wickedness  '  whispering  evil  coun- 
sels 1  instead  of  the  sensitive  regard  to  Jahweh's 
will  that  upheld  the  righteous — and  no  fear  of  God 
before  their  eyes,  flattering  themselves  there  was 
no  one  to  expose  and  requite  their  wickedness,  they 
scorned  the  paths  of  wisdom,  finding  their  pleasure 
in  sinful  words  and  ways,  and  brooding  over  their 
iniquities  even  in  the  watches  of  the  night,  on  the 
bed  where  the  good  man  thought  of  God  (xxxvi.  iff.). 
As  lon,g  as  this  world  of  wickedness  lay  apart  from 
their  sheltered  sanctuary,  the  righteous  might  com- 
fort themselves  with  the  assurance  that  evil  would 

1  Read,  with  a  few  MSS.,  and  the  best  Versions,  V'^hb  V'^'SfDiii 
137  ^~!ir!3i  lit.  to  the  wicked  there  is  an  oracle  of  transgression  in 
the  midst  of  his  heart. 


174  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

not  come  near  to  them,  and  that  the  wicked  them- 
selves would  be  scattered  as  chaff  before  the  right- 
eous wrath  of  God.  For  it  was  the  other  side  of 
that  simple  confidence  which  saw  the  good  man 
happy  and  prosperous  all  his  days,  that  God  would 
requite  the  evil  with  misery  and  cruel  suffering,  and 
swift,  relentless  death.  But  the  problem  could  not 
long  be  warded  off.  For  into  the  very  heart  of  their 
Paradise  the  besetting  foe  forced  his  way,  trampling 
down  the  righteous  in  his  malice,  and  exposing  God's 
loyal  ones  to  insult,  ignominy,  and  constant  op- 
pression. So  completely,  indeed,  was  moral  order 
subverted  that  the  wicked  became  the  lords  of  the 
world,  and  the  righteous  who  trusted  in  God  were 
known  as  'dni  or  'dndw,  the  poor,  needy,  meek  or 
humble  of  the  earth.  And  so  far  was  Jahweh  from 
helping  His  suffering  saints,  that  often  He  seemed 
to  add  to  their  miseries.  As  though  the  oppression 
of  the  wicked  were  not  enough  to  wring  their  souls. 
He  laid  His  hand  in  added  affliction  upon  them, 
torturing  them  with  cruel  sickness  and  pain.  The 
problem  of  righteous  men  suffering,  and  the  wicked 
flourishing  '  as  a  green  tree  in  its  native  soil '  (xxxvii. 
35),  was  all  the  harder  that  no  hope  shone  from  the 
life  beyond.  To  the  Hebrews,  as  to  other  ancient 
nations,  this  life  was  literally  a  narrow  span  of  light 
between  two  eternities  of  darkness.  For  a  few  short 
years  they  enjoyed  the  goodness  of  God  in  the  land 


Life  and   Immortality       175 

of  the  living.  Then  they  were  gathered  to  their 
fathers  in  the  dark  and  dismal  land  of  the  dead, 
where  they  spent  a  dull,  joyless,  shadowy  existence, 
not  worthy  of  the  name  of  life.  The  5/f '0/  or  Hades 
of  the  Hebrews  was  a  vast  darksome  pit,  in  which 
rich  and  poor,  wicked  and  good,  were  herded  to- 
gether, cut  off  for  ever  from  the  bright,  full-blooded 
life  of  this  upper  sphere,  and  equally  removed  from 
the  thought  and  the  fellowship  of  God. 

In  death  there  is  no  remembrance  of  Thee  ; 
In  Sheol  who  shall  give  Thee  thanks?  (vi.  5). 

What  profit  in  my  blood,  when  I  go  down  to  the  pit  ? 
Shall  dust  praise  Thee  ?     Canit  declare  Thy  truth  ?  (xxx.  9). 

Wilt  Thou  do  wonders  for  the  dead  ; 

Will  the  shades  rise  up  to  praise  Thee  ? 
Shall  Thy  love  be  told  in  the  grave, 

Or  Thy  faithfulness  in  Abaddon? 
Shall  Thy  wonders  be  known  in  the  darkness, 

A  nd  Thy  righteousness  in  the  land  of  forgetting  ?(lxxxviii.  loff . ) } 

This  absence  of  eternal  hope  from  the  religious 
life  of  Israel  is  all  the  more  striking  as  their  near 
neighbours,  the  Egyptians,  so  consciously  shaped 

^  Various  features  in  the  description  of  Sheol  recall  Greek  con- 
ceptions of  ,the  under-world  (cf.  especially  Odysseus'  descent  to 
Hades,  Od.  xi.  iff.).  But  the  nearest  analogue  is  found  in  the 
Babylonian  arallu,  or  kigal,  the  '  house  of  darkness,'  the  '  land 
without  return,'  whose  inhabitants  '  are  deprived  of  light,'  and 
'  dwell  in  dense  darkness,'  their  nourishment  dust,  and  their  foo 
clay — the  land  so  far  removed  from  the  power  of  the  heavenly 
gods  that  they  must  strip  themselves  of  all  the  emblems  of  their 
godhood  before  they  can  enter  (cf.  Descent  of  Ishtar,  etc.). 


176  The  Poets  or  the  Old  Testament 

their  conduct  by  the  thought  of  future  bhss  and 
misery.  The  deepened  religious  feehng  of  the 
Greeks  and  Romans,  too,  evolved  its  Elysium  and 
Tartarus  as  the  eternal  dwelling-places  of  the 
righteous  and  the  wicked.  But  Israel  had  to  learn 
the  lessons  of  eternal  life  first  on  this  earthly  plane  ; 
and  only  through  their  victories  on  the  moral  battle- 
fields of  the  present  did  they  win  the  prize  of 
a  blessed  immortality  beyond.  And  it  was  mainly 
from  the  conflict  with  suffering  and  doubt  that  the 
larger  faith  was  reached. 

It  was  not,  however,  till  every  other  ground  of 
hope  had  failed  them  that,  oppressed  and  bewildered 
hemmed  in  by  fear  and  despair  on  every  side,  they 
raised  their  eyes  above  the  encircling  darkness, 
and  found  God  in  His  heaven — their  everlasting 
Refuge  and  Friend. 

The  first  look  of  harassed  saints  was  backward. 
They  cried  to  God  in  the  day-time,  but  He  answered 
them  not  ;  in  the  night  season,  too,  but  they  found 
no  respite.  In  their  perplexity,  then,  they  turned 
to  the  past,  and  recalled  how 

Our  fathers  trusted  in  Thee  ; 

They  trusted,  and  Thou  didst  deliver  them. 
To  Thee  they  cried,  and  escaped  ; 

In  Thee  they  trusted,  and  were  not  put  to  shame  (xxii.  4f.). 

It  seemed  impossible  that  the  God  who  had  saved 
and  blessed  their  fathers  should  prove  false  to  them- 


Life  and   Immortality       177 

selves.  Yet  the  facts  belied  their  faith.  The  right- 
eous suffered,  while  the  wicked  grew  more  proud 
and  insolent  day  by  day,  and  Jahweh  stood  afar  off, 
hiding  Himself  in  the  time  of  trouble  (x.  iff.).  The 
poor  sufferers  next  sought  salvation  in  the  forward 
view.  This  stage  of  the  conflict  is  most  fully  repre- 
sented in  the  long  acrostic  Psalm  xxxvii.  The 
Psalmist  had  been  '  fretting  himself  because  of  evil- 
doers.' But  he  came  to  see  how  foolish  this  fretting 
was. 

For  yet  a  little  while,  and  the  wicked  shall  not  be  ; 

Thou  shalt  search  his  place — he  is  there  no  more. 
But  the  meek  shall  inherit  the  land, 

And  delight  themselves  in  abundance  of  peace. 

The  wicked  man  plotteth  against  the  righteous. 

And  gnasheth  upon  him  with  his  teeth  ; 
But  the  Lord  laugheth  over  him. 

For  He  seeth  that  his  day  doth  come  {vv.  loff.). 

Often  with  his  own  eyes  had  the  Psalmist  seen  the 
wicked  '  uplifting  himself  in  triumph  as  a  cedar  of 
Lebanon.' 

But  when  I  passed  by,  behold,  he  was  not  ; 

When  I  sought  him,  he  could  not  be  found  [vv.  35!.). 

On  the  other  hand,  the  righteous  flourished  from 
more  to  more.  They  might  fail,  but  they  could  not 
be  utterly  cast  down  ;  for  Jahweh  upheld  them  with 
His  own  right  hand. 

The  salvation  of  the  righteous  is  of  Jahweh  ; 

He  is  their  stronghold  in  time  of  trouble. 
Jahweh  doth  help  and  rescue  them  ; 

He  saveth  them,  since  they  trust  in  Him  {vv.  39f.). 

J2 


178  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

The  Psalmist  thus  threw  the  problem  forward. 
But  the  doubts  continued  to  return.  The  tangled 
skein  of  life  was  not  unravelled.  The  wicked  flour- 
ished to  the  end.  Their  outward  estate  prospered ; 
and  they  seemed  to  escape  the  common  lot  of  mor- 
tals. They  had  no  pains  as  other  men,  but  were 
firm  and  strong  in  frame,  their  eyes  standing  out  with 
fatness,  and  their  hearts  overflowing  with  proud 
imaginations.  At  such  a  sight  it  was  hard  to  refrain 
from  bitter  thoughts  of  God  and  His  ways.  Why 
did  He  stand  off  thus  ?  WTiy  hide  His  face  in  such 
times  of  moral  disorder  ?  WTiy  not  put  forth  His 
hand,  and  right  His  children's  wrongs  ?  But  the 
heavens  above  were  as  brass.  Amid  such  dis- 
heartening silence  there  were  those  who  sought  to 
flee  from  the  trouble.  Had  they  but  wings  like  a 
dove,  they  would  fly  away,  and  be  at  rest  in  some 
distant  wilderness,  where  no  one  could  vex  them 
more  (Iv.  6).  Others  broke  into  impassioned  in- 
vectives against  the  wicked.  Let  God  destro}^  them 
for  ever,  plucking  them  out  of  their  tent,  and  uproot- 
ing them  from  the  land  of  the  living  !  (Hi.  5).  Let 
their  eyes  be  darkened,  and  their  loins  smitten  with 
weakness  ;  their  habitation  be  desolate,  and  their 
tents  forsaken  !  (Ixix.  23ff.).  Even  upon  their 
innocent  children  let  the  curse  of  God  work  itself 
out   in  unrelenting  fury  !    (cix.   8ff.). 

But  braver  spirits  fought  out  the  fight,  and  lifted 


Life  and   Immortality       179 

the  problem  to  a  region  where  the  troubles  melted 
away  in  the  eternal  sunshine  of  God's  face. 

The  first  ray  of  immortal  hope  appears  to  be  met 
with  in  Ps.  xvii.  The  Psalmist  here  pours  out  his 
soul  to  God  for  help  against  his  deadly  enemies, 
who  compass  him  about  like  a  lion  greedy  of  prey, 
and  hungry  for  his  life.  He  has  kept  stedfastly  to 
the  ways  of  truth,  while  they  have  been  travailing 
with  evil  all  their  days.  Yet  he  is  poor  and  afflicted, 
and  they  are  '  sated  with  substance  '  all  their  lives 
long,  and  able  to  leave  an  abundant  portion  to  their 
children  {vv.  loff.).  But,  in  a  bold  leap  of  faith,  the 
Psalmist  sees  all  this  worldly  prosperity  counter- 
balanced by  what  he  shall  inherit  at  the  end. 

As  for  me — in  righteousness  shall  I  gaze  on  Thy  face  ; 

I  shall  be  satisfied,  when  I  awake,  with  Thine  image  {v.  15).* 

The  problem  is,  however,  far  more  seriously 
grappled  with  in  Ps.  xlix.,  where  the  prosperity  of 
the  proud  is  put  forth  as  a  '  riddle  '  to  be  faced  and 
answered. 

^  The  '  awaking  '  has  been  interpreted  as  the  mere  '  arousing 
from  sleep  '  in  the  morning  (Hengstenberg,  Duhm),  or  as  happy 
dehverance  from  the  surrounding  gloom  (Baethgen,  Davison, 
etc.).  But,  as  the  prosperity  of  the  wicked  is  continued  to  the 
very  hour  of  death,  it  seems  necessary  to  regard  the  '  awaking ' 
as  a  joyous  experience  beyond  death.  Cheyne  has  related  the 
thought  to  the  image  of  '  sleep  '  in  Ps.  xc.  5,  and  taken  death  itself 
as  the  awaking  out  of  sleep, '  when  life's  short  day  is  past '  {Comm. 
on  Psalms,  p.  44).  It  is  easier,  however,  to  find  in  the  context  a 
bold  expectation  of  awakening  from  the  sleep  of  death.  In 
Greek  poetry  death  is  often  pictured  as  the '  sister  '  of  sleep.   And 


1 8  o  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

Hear  this,  ye  peoples  all ; 

Give  ear,  ye  dwellers  on  earth- 
Sons  both  of  high  and  low. 

Together  rich  and  poor  I 
My  month  shall  utter  wisdom. 

And  the  thoughts  of  my  heart  be  with  insight. 
While  I  tune  mine  ear  to  a  parable. 

On  my  harp  give  forth  a  riddle. 

Why  should  I  fear  in  the  days  of  evil. 

When  my  treacherous  foes  surround  me  with  wrong. 
Even  such  as  trust  in  their  riches. 

And  boast  of  their  plenteous  wealth  ? 
Not  one  may  buy  himself  free. 

Or  give  God  the  price  of  his  soul. 
That  he  should  live  continually. 

And  never  see  the  pit. 
For  even  wise  men  die. 

With  the  fool  and  the  brutish  together  ; 
Yea,  all  of  them  perish  alike, ^ 

And  leave  their  wealth  unto  others. 
Graves  are  their  homes  for  ever. 

Their  dwellings  from  age  to  age- 
Even  those  who  gave  their  names 

To  fields  for  a  lasting  memorial.^ 
For  man  in  honour  abides  not  ; 

He  is  like  to  the  beasts  that  perish. 

This  is  the  lot  of  the  proud. 

And  their  end  that  trust  in  themselves  :^ 
Like  sheep  they  are  led  to  Sheol, 

And  Death  shall  shepherd  them  there. 

the  same  ideameets  us  in  Ps.  xiii.  3  ;  Job  iii.  13  ;  Matt.  ix.  24; 
John  xi.  II. 

1  and  *.  The  text  has  been  sUghtly  expanded,  in  the  interests 
of  sense  and  paralleHsm. 

3  I  have  followed  Wellhausen,  etc.,  in  reading  Dri'''inX,  and 
have  further  taken  Dn"'D5  reflexively,  such  as  are  pleased  with 
their  own  mouths  (or  sayings). 


Life  and  Immortality       i8i 

straight  down  shall  they  go  to  the  grave, 
And  their  form  shall  be  wasted  away}- 
But  God  will  redeem  my  soul  ; 

From  the  power  of  Sheol  He  will  take  me.* 
Fear  not,  then,  though  a  man  groweih  rich. 

And  the  pomp  of  his  house  be  increased  } 
For  nought  will  he  take  in  his  death. 

His  pomp  will  not  follow  him  there. 
Though  he  blessed  his  soul  while  he  lived. 

And  praised  himself  for  his  well-being,^ 
He  must  go  to  the  ranks  of  his  fathers. 

Who  shall  never  again  see  light. 
For  man  in  honour  abides  not  ;  * 

He  is  like  to  the  beasts  that  perish. 

A  number  of  recent  scholars  have  found  in  this 
Psalm  no  more  than  the  hope  of  long  and  happy  life 
for  the  righteous.  But  the  whole  contrast  is  be- 
tween the  proud  rich  whose  well-being  is  bound 
up  with  this  present  world  and  the  good  man  who 
may  have  few  possessions  here,  but  finds  a  rich 
compensation  beyond  the  grave.  Elsewhere  in 
the  Psalter  immortality  is  regarded  as  the  full 
fruitage  of  faith.  Thus  in  Ps.  xvi.  the  good  man's 
fellowship  with  God  is  so  close  and  intimate  that 
he  can  hardly  conceive  of  its  interruption  even  by 
death. 

1  In  this  very  difficult  passage  I  have  followed  Buhl's  text  (in 
Kittel,  Biblia  Hebraica). 

2  On  the  '  taking  '  (to  Himself),  cf.  Gen.  v.  24  ;  2  Kings  ii.  i, 

'  Read  probably  the  third  sing.  fem.  HTVI  and  rO,  the  object 
being  the  rich  man's  'soul.' 

*  The  refrain  should,  no  doubt,  be  identical  with  the  preceding 
(i;.  12). 


1 8  2  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

The  Lord  have  I  set  continually  before  me  ; 

With  Him  at  my  right  hand,  I  shall  not  be  moved. 
Therefore  my  heart  is  glad,  and  my  reins  ^  rejoice  ; 

My  flesh  also  shall  dwell  in  confidence. 
For  Thou  wilt  not  leave  my  soul  to  Sheol, 

Nor  suffer  Thy  saint  to  see  the  pit. 
Thou  wilt  show  me  the  pathway  of  life  ; 

In  Thy  presence  is  fulness  of  joy. 

In  Thy  right  hand  there  are  pleasures  for  ever  {vv.  8fi.). 

There  is  here,  indeed,  no  explicit  hope  of  immortality. 
The  Psalmist  clings  rather  to  the  thought  that  the 
greedy  maw  of  Sheol  will  not  open  on  him  pre- 
maturely. But  the  very  protest  against  the  in- 
dignity of  death  led  to  surer  faith  in  eternal  life  for 
such  as  walked  in  friendship  with  the  Eternal  God. 
This  is  the  note  that  rings  so  clearly  through  the 
third  of  the  great  problem  Psalms  (Ixxiii.).  The 
author  of  this  Psalm,  too,  had  his  struggle  with  the 
dark  question  of  moral  inequalities.  So  keenly 
had  it  pressed  upon  him,  indeed,  that  his  feet  were 
almost  gone,  his  steps  had  well-nigh  slipped.  It 
seemed  to  him  vain  to  cleanse  his  heart,  and  wash 
his  hands  in  innocence.  For  all  day  long  was  he 
smitten  of  God,  tortured  and  '  chastened '  every 
morning,  while  those  who  defied  God  were  fat  and 
flourishing,  their  hearts  '  always  at  ease,'  as  they 
increased  in  riches,  and  lived  in  luxury  and  pride. 
As  he  thus  wrestled  with  his  soul,  bitter  in  heart, 

1  Read  ^^5^,  my  liver,  regarded  by  the  Hebrews  as  a  special 
seat  of  intelligence. 


Life  and   Immortality       183 

yet  afraid  to  express  his  doubts,  lest  he  might 
subvert  the  faith  of  the  simple,  he  went  to  the 
sanctuary  of  God,  and  viewed  the  problem  in  the 
light  of  the  Eternal.  At  once,  then,  his  doubts  dis- 
solved. The  troubles  that  vexed  him  belonged 
to  the  passing  present.  But  God  was  for  ever. 
And  in  Him  the  Psalmist  possessed  an  abiding  Good. 
Whatever  the  inequalities  of  life. 

Yet  God  is  good  io  the  upright, 
Our  God  to  the  pure  in  heart  {v.  i). 

With  all  their  firmness  of  heart  and  step,  the  wicked 
were  set  in  slippery  places  ;  and  in  a  moment  they 
would  be  cast  headlong  to  destruction,  and  all 
their  boasted  wealth  would  be  powerless  to  help 
them. 

But  I  am  continually  with  Thee  ; 

Thou  hast  hold  of  my  right  hand. 
By  Thy  counsel  dost  Thou  lead  me, 

And  in  after  days  Thou  wilt  take  me  to  glory. 
Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  Thee  ? 

And  with  Thee  I  seek  no  joy  on  earth. 
My  heart  and  my  flesh  may  fail ; 

Yet  God  is  my  portion  for  ever. 
For,  to  !  those  far  from  Thee  shall  perish  ; 

Thou  destroyest  all  that  whore  from  Thee. 
But  for  me — to  be  nigh  unto  God  is  my  good  ; 

In  Jahweh  my  Lord  have  I  made  my  refuge  {vv.  23flE.). 

The  glad  hope  of  immortality  here  rests,  not  on 
speculative  arguments  from  the  nature  of  the  soul, 
but   on  the  sure  ground  of  religious  experience. 


184  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

Immortality  is,  in  fact,  a  necessary  implicate  of 
personal  religion.  The  man  that  lives  with  God  is 
immortal  as  He  is.  Thus  again  does  the  Old  reach 
forward  to  the  New.  For  Jesus  also  based  immor- 
tality on  faith  in  the  living  God,  and  Himself  whom 
God  had  sent.  '  God  is  not  the  God  of  the  dead, 
but  of  the  living  '  (Matt.  xxii.  32,  etc.).  '  I  am  the 
resurrection  and  the  life  :  he  that  believeth  on 
Me,  though  he  die,  yet  shall  he  live  ;  and  whosoever 
liveth  and  believeth  on  Me  shall  never  die  '  (John 
xi.  25f.). 


CHAPTER    XI 

The  Kingdom  of  God  in  the  Psalms 

The  dominant  note  in  religious  poetry  is  personal. 
The  poet  pours  forth  the  rapture  or  the  plaint  of 
his  own  soul  to  God.  Yet  the  individual  can 
neither  live  nor  die,  rejoice  nor  sorrow,  to  himself 
alone.  In  our  own  complex  society  we  are  touched 
and  influenced  in  innumerable  ways  by  the  impact 
of  the  spiritual  life  around  us.  The  poets  of 
Israel  were  still  more  vitally  affected  by  their  en- 
vironment. In  the  earlier  period  the  nation  was 
the  real  spiritual  unit.  And,  though  the  individual 
emerged  to  full  personal  consciousness  from  the 
fiery  discipline  of  the  Exile,  his  spiritual  life  was 
still  wrapped  up  in  that  of  the  community.  He 
shared  the  same  faith  and  hope  as  his  people.  His 
heart  was  upborne  on  the  tide  of  their  joys  and 
triumphs,  and  equally  sunk  to  the  depths  by  the 
crushing  weight  of  their  griefs.  Thus  in  the  Psalms 
the  personal  note  easily  passes  to  the  national. 
The  two  may  even  blend.  As  we  have  seen,  it  is 
often  impossible  to  decide  whether  the  poet's  '  I  * 

185 


1 8  6  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

relate  to  his  own  personal  Ego  or  to  the  larger 
soul  of  the  community.  The  individual  singer  has 
entered  so  deeply  into  the  spiritual  life  of  his  people 
that  in  what  appear  to  be  expressions  of  the  most 
intense  personal  emotion  he  is  really  giving  utter- 
ance to  the  feelings  of  all. 

The  two  spheres  being  thus  intimately  related, 
the  same  moral  principles  govern  the  wider  life 
of  the  nation  as  obtain  in  the  individual. 

JaJiweh  sitteih  enthroned  for  ever  ; 

His  seat  hath  He  stablished  for  judgment. 
He  shall  judge  the  world  in  righteousness, 

He  shall  rule  the  peoples  in  equity  (ix.  yf.). 

But,  though  right  and  judgment  are  '  the  founda- 
tion of  His  throne,'  His  justice  is  here  also  tem- 
pered with  mercy.  Love  and  truth  '  go  before  His 
face,'  as  the  gracious  heralds  of  His  approach 
(Ixxxix.  14).    Therefore 

Happy  the  nation  whose  God  is  Jahweh, 

The  people  He  chose  as  His  own  inheritance  (xxxiii.  12). 

Happy  the  people  that  know  the  glad  sound} 

That  walk,  O  Lord,  in  the  light  of  Thy  face  (Ixxxix.  15). 

For  all  good  things  shall  be  theirs.  They  shall 
dwell  securely.  They  shall  inherit  the  earth.  Their 
horn  shall  be  exalted  over  their  enemies.  They 
shall  trample  them  down  in  the  day  of  battle.    And 

*  ny-liri^  the  loud  shout  of  triumph,  raised  by  the  heralds  for 
the  approach  of  the  King  (cf.  v.  14). 


Kingdom  of  God  in  the  Psalms    187 

within  their  borders  all  shall  be  well.  Their  sons 
shall  grow  up  like  fresh  plants  in  the  garden  of  the 
Lord,  and  their  daughters  shall  shine  as  polished 
statues  fit  for  a  palace.  Their  ground  also  shall 
yield  its  increase.  Their  barns  shall  be  full.  Their 
sheep  shall  bring  forth  their  thousands  and  ten 
thousands.  Their  oxen  shall  be  laden.  And 
there  shall  be  no  outcry  in  their  streets  for  famine 
or  pestilence  (cf.  Pss.  Ixv.,  Ixvii.,  cxliv.,  etc.). 

Although  these  principles  have  the  widest  pos- 
sible sweep,  their  special  application  is  to  Israel. 
Jahweh  was  the  God  of  Israel.  Thus  the 
blessings  of  the  people  whose  God  was  Jahweh 
belonged  peculiarly  to  Israel.  The  Psalms  delight 
to  celebrate  the  blessedness  of  Jahweh's  people. 
They  dwell  with  a  tender  joy  on  the  beauty  of  Zion, 
which  He  had  chosen  as  the  earthly  home  of  His 
glory,  so  lovely  for  situation,  '  the  delight  of  all  the 
earth  '  (xlviii.  2),  the  very  '  perfection  of  beauty  ' 
(1.  2),  whose  stones  were  precious  to  her  children 
even  in  their  ruin  (cii.  14).  Or,  in  the  proud  confi- 
dence of  their  trust  in  Jahweh,  they  sing  aloud  of 
her  impregnable  strength  in  the  face  of  the  direst 
danger. 


God  is  for  us  a  refuge  and  strength, 

An  ever  present  help  in  troubles. 
Thus  will  we  fear  not  though  the  earth  be  upturned, 

Though  the  mountains  he  sunk  in  the  heart  of  the  seas. 


1 8  8  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

The  waters  thereof  may  roar  and  foam, 
And  the  mountains  quake  at  the  swelling  thereof,— 

Jahweh  of  hosts  is  with  us, 

Jacob's  God  is  our  Fortress  high. 

A  river — its  streams  make  glad  the  city  of  God, 

Whose  dwelling-place  there  the  Almighty  hath  sanctified. 
God  is  within  her  :  moved  shall  she  never  be. 

God  shall  help  her  when  morning  dawns. 
The  nations  raged,  the  kingdoms  were  moved  ; 

He  littered  His  voice,  the  earth  did  melt. 
Jahweh  of  hosts  is  with  tts, 

Jacob's  God  is  our  Fortress  high. 

Come,  behold  the  works  of  the  Lord, 

Who  stayeth  wars  to  the  end  of  the  earth. 
He  breaketh  the  bow,  and  snappeth  the  spear  ; 

The  chariots  of  war  He  burneth  with  fire. 
'  Be  still,  then,  and  know  that  I  am  God  ; 

I  will  rise  o'er  the  nations,  I  will  rise  o'er  the  earth* 
Jahweh  of  hosts  is  with  us, 

Jacob's  God  is  our  Fortress  high  (Ps.  xlvi.). 

In  the  shadow  of  Zion,  then,  the  people  of  Jahweh 
enjoyed  abiding  security  and  peace.  And  over 
them  God  placed  kings  of  David's  line,  who  should 
lead  them  in  the  sure  paths  of  righteousness  and 
prosperity.  To  Israel  the  king  was  the  earthly 
representative  of  Jahweh  Himself — the  '  anointed 
of  the  Lord,'  with  whom  the  covenant  rested  genera- 
tion after  generation.  For  him  their  tenderest 
prayers  were  offered  (xx.  6£f,).  In  the  goodness 
with  which  Jahweh  had  satisfied  his  heart  they 
rejoiced  with  abounding  joy  (xxi.  iff.).  To  cele- 
brate the  marriage  of  the  king  they  raised  their 


Kingdom  of  God  in  the  Psalms    189 

sweetest  '  love-song '  (xlv.).  And  they  dreamed 
their  dreams  of  a  righteous  people  dwelling  in  un- 
broken peace  and  blessing  under  a  long  line  of 
righteous  kings,  ruling  in  the  name  of  the  good  God 
of  Israel,  and  extending  the  sway  of  righteousness 
to  the  remotest  regions  of  the  earth  (of.  Pss.  xlv., 
Ixxii.,  Ixxxix.,  igff.,  etc.). 

As  the  naive  self-confidence  of  the  individual 
was  broken  down  by  the  stern  experience  of  life, 
this  fair  ideal  of  national  glory  was  shattered  by 
the  rude  blows  of  remorseless  fate.  The  course  of 
Israel's  history  was  by  no  means  the  bright  un- 
clouded path  of  splendour  its  poets  had  fondly 
dreamt  of.  There  is  perhaps  no  more  tragic  drama 
of  real  life  than  the  working  out  of  that  people's 
destiny,  through  disruption  and  inward  decay, 
moral  and  spiritual  corruption,  devastation  by 
foreign  invaders,  to  the  last  crushing  stroke — the 
downfall  of  the  city,  the  humiliating  captivity  of 
the  people  to  a  land  that  was  unclean,  and  the  ruin 
of  the  Temple  that  was  the  chosen  dwelling-place 
of  their  God,  and  the  visible  sign  of  His  presence 
in  their  midst. 

It  is  hardly  possible  for  the  modern  Christian 
mind  to  realize  the  despair  which  fell  upon  the 
people  when  the  stunning  blow  struck  them.  It 
was  not  merely  that  the  city  which  was  more  to 
them  than  their  '  chief  joy  '  lay  in  ruins,  or  even 


190  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

that  the  house  where  they  were  wont  to  '  see  God's 
face  '  was  now  for  ever  closed  against  them — but 
God  Himself  seemed  to  have  played  them  false. 
Jahweh  was  their  God,  who  was  morally  bound  to 
save  and  prosper  them.  But  He  had  given  them 
over  to  the  cruel  will  of  their  enemies.  He  had 
even  abdicated  His  throne  by  standing  idly  still 
while  the  heathen  sacked  and  burned  His  city  and 
Temple.  It  seemed  as  though  Jahweh  were  power- 
less to  defend  His  Kingdom  against  the  mightier 
gods  the  nations  served.  Thus  the  captives  had 
no  more  heart  to  sing  the  songs  of  Jahweh,  but, 
hanging  their  harps  on  the  willows,  they  sat  down 
and  wept  in  dull  stupor  of  despair  by  the  cheerless 
canals  of  Babylon.  Or,  goaded  by  the  taunts  and 
jeers  of  the  triumphant  enemy,  they  turned  upon 
them  in  volcanic  fury  : — 

Remember  against  Edom's  children 

The  day  of  Jerusalem, — 
Those  that  said,   'Rase  it,  rase  it, 

To  the  very  foundation  I ' 
And  thou  daughter  of  Babel,  that  laid  her  waste  !^ 

Happy  be  he  that  deals  thee 

The  dole  thou  hast  dealt  to  us  ! 
Happy  he  who  seizeth  and  dasheth 

Thine  infants  against  the  rock  !  (cxxxvii.  yff.). 

But  at  times  they  raised  their  reproaches  against 
God  Himself.     Their  fathers  had  told  them  of  His 

1  I  have  followed  the  Jewish  Targum  and  other  Versions  in 
reading  ^^'^*55'^. 


Kingdom  of  God  in  the  Psalms    191 

wondrous  works  in  the  days  of  old,  how  He  had 
driven  out  the  nations,  and  planted  His  own  people 
in  their  goodly  inheritance,  and  defended  them 
against  all  their  enemies  around.  But  now  He 
had  cast  them  off,  and  dishonoured  them  ;  He  had 
turned  their  backs  to  the  adversary  ;  He  had  given 
them  up  like  sheep  appointed  for  meat,  and  scattered 
them  among  the  nations  ;  He  had  made  them  a 
reproach  to  their  neighbours,  a  scorn  and  derision 
to  all  about  them.  All  this  had  come  upon  them  : 
yet  had  they  not  forgotten  Him,  or  dealt  falsely  by 
His  covenant  ;  their  heart  had  not  turned  back, 
nor  their  feet  swerved  from  His  way.  How  long, 
then,  they  asked  in  tones  almost  of  indignation, 
how  long  was  He  to  remain  silent  while  the  heathen 
trampled  upon  His  heritage  ? 

Awake,  Lord!     Why  sleepest  Thou? 

Rouse  Thee,  cast  us  not  off  for  ever  I 
Why  dost  Thou  hide  Thy  face. 

And  forget  our  distress  and  affliction?  (xliv.   iff.). 

The  silence  of  God  was  so  intolerable  to  many  of 
His  exiled  worshippers  that  they  felt  they  should 
like  to  usurp  His  place,  and  themselves  execute 
judgment  on  their  oppressors.  Thus  through  cer- 
tain of  these  Psalms  of  Jerusalem's  agony  there 
glows  a  white-hot  flame  of  hatred. 

O  my  God,  make  them  as  whirling  dust, 
As  stubble  before  the  wind! 


192  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

Like  fire  thai  consumeth  the  forest. 

Or  a  flame  that  kindleth  the  mountains. 
Do  Thou  with  Thy  whirlwind  pursue  them. 

With  Thy  hurricane  throw  them  in  terror  I 
Fill  Thou  their  faces  with  shame. 

That  they  seek  Thy  name,  O  Lord  ! 
Be  they  shamed  and  confounded  for  ever. 

Abashed,  and  brought  to  destruction, — 
That  they  learn  that  Thou,  Jahweh,  alone 

Art  Most  High  over  all  the  earth  I  (Ixxxiii.  I3ff.)- 

These  songs  of  despair  and  fury  have  often  been 
a  real  stumbling-block  to  the  Christian  reader  of 
the  Psalms.  They  do,  indeed,  stand  self-con- 
demned before  the  Master's  command  to  love  one's 
enemies.  Yet, as  the  burning  effusions  of  sensitive 
spirits  to  whom  all  that  was  dearest  in  life  was  lost, 
and  for  whom  the  very  foundations  of  God's  throne 
were  upturned,  they  are  certainly  more  fitting 
than  the  attitude  of  callous  indifference.  Those 
patriotic  poets  of  Israel  had  in  their  blood  the 
stuff  of  which  religious  heroes  are  made.  Their 
passion  needed  to  be  controlled,  and  turned  into 
purer  channels.  But  such  intensity  of  feeling  was 
the  best  proof  that  the  heart  still  beat  true  to  God 
and  righteousness. 

Thus  we  find  in  the  Psalms  of  the  Exile  other 
notes  than  those  of  hatred  and  vengeance.  In  the 
'  alien  land  '  the  people  of  Israel  began  to  read 
aright  the  lesson  of  their  history.  It  was  for  no 
light  cause,  they  saw,  God  had  abandoned  them 


Kingdom  of  God  in  the  Psalms    193 

to  the  enemy.  In  their  prosperity  they  had  prided 
themselves  on  their  privileges  as  Jahweli's  people. 
But  they  had  thought  little  of  the  responsibilities 
thus  laid  on  them.  They  spoke  of  righteousness, 
indeed  ;  but  on  their  lips  righteousness  was  rather 
the  favour  they  sought  of  God  than  the  moral  con- 
duct He  expected  of  them.  In  this  respect  they 
were  no  better  than  their  neighbours  that  knew 
not  Jahweh  ;  and  they  had  as  yet  made  no  real 
effort  to  make  His  name  known  to  the  nations,  and 
to  show  themselves  a  blessing  to  all  the  families  of 
the  earth.  But  now  they  came  to  themselves. 
They  felt  how  grievously  they  and  their  fathers 
had  sinned  against  their  God,  and  how  just  all  His 
ways  had  been.  They  began  to  understand,  as 
well,  how  very  gracious  He  was,  how  full  of  com- 
passion and  forgiveness,  and  how  ready  even  now 
to  save  and  bless  them. 

0  that  my  people  would  hear  me. 

That  Israel  would  walk  in  my  ways  ! 

1  should  soon  subdue  their  enemies, 
And  turn  my  hand  on  their  foes. 

Those  that  hate  them  would  cringe  before  them. 

But  their  hour  should  last  for  ever. 
With  the  fat  of  the  wheat  would  I  feed  them, 

From  the  rock  would  I  sate  them  with  honey  (Ixxxi.  13^.). 

Amid  the  darkness  of  the  Exile,  too,  light  fell  on 
the  mj'Stery  of  their  sufferings.  The  great  singer 
in  Deutero-Isaiah  had  related  the  sorrows  of  Israel 

J3 


194  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

to  the  salvation  of  the  world.     And  the  same  thought 
breaks  through  the  prevailing  gloom  of  Ps.  xxii. 

All  ends  of  the  earth  shall  bethink  them, 

And  turn  unto  Jahweh  ; 
Before  Him  shall  worship 

All  families  of  nations  ; 
For  the  kingdom  is  Jahweh's,— 

He  ruleth  the  nations  {vv.  2yi.) 

Thus  through  the  discipline  of  sorrow  the  people 
were  raised  from  their  old  self-complacency  to  a 
new  sense  of  their  national  destiny  as  the  prophet 
of  God  to  the  nations.  And,  when  the  almost 
unhoped-for  deliverance  was  come,  and  the  first 
singing  bands  found  themselves  once  more  beside 
the  sacred  stones  of  Zion,  visions  of  Jerusalem  as 
the  centre  of  a  world-wide  Kingdom  of  the  living 
God  swept  before  their  imagination.  The  noblest 
expression  is  given  to  this  hope  in  that  strangely 
fascinating  Ps.  Ixxxvii.,  the  mood  of  which  har- 
monizes so  truly  with  this  hour  of  wondering 
expectancy  : — 

On  holy  mountains  is  Jahweh's  foundaiion. 
And  the  Almighty  Himself  will  upbuild  it.* 

For  Jahweh  loveth  the  gates  of  Zion 
More  than  all  the  dwellings  of  Jacob. 

1  The  first  verse  is  obviously  incomplete.  Buhl  has  happily 
provided  a  second  stichos  in  the  closing  phrase  of  i/.  5,  which  is 
clearly  out  of  touch  with  its  present  context.  A  subject  is  almost 
necessary  for  the  possessive  case  at  the  opening  of  the  Psalm. 
For  inn-ID*,  therefore,  we  might  read  "•  ni-1D.\  the  '*  being  the 
common  Massoretic  contraction  for  mn* 


Kingdom  of  God  in  the  Psalms    195 

Glorious  things  are  spoken  of  thee, 

Zion,  the  city  of  God  : 
'  Rahab  and  Babel  I  mention  among  those  that  know  me 

Philistia  likewise,  and  Tyre,  with  Ciish  ; 
But  Zion — she  shall  be  called  Mother,^ 

For  each  and  all  were  born  in  her.' 
Even  Jahweh  shall  count,  while  enrolling  the  peoples, 

'  This  one  was  born  there,  and  that  one  was  born  there,'  ^ 
So  shall  they  sing,  as  they  dance, 

'  All  my  springs  are  in  thee.'  * 

These  notes  are  witnesses  to  the  indestructible 
vitality  of  Israel's  faith.  Other  nations  had  dreamed 
their  dreams  of  world-Empire,  in  which  their  gods 
naturally  assumed  the  spiritual  supremacy.  But 
such  hopes  were  bound  up  with  military  glory  and 
success.  Thus  the  downfall  of  the  people  saw  the  ex- 

1  The  LXX  reads  M^tt;^  1.etu)v,  '  Mother  Zion.'  This  bears 
indisputable  witness  to  the  falling  out  of  DX  before  ")0X\  the 
original  reading  being  "ipx.^.  DX  p'VP'l,  which  yields  an  excellent 
context. 

*  The  phrase  DK'"*!?."'  HT  is  quite  out  of  placeinv.  4,  andisthus 
rightly  omitted  by  LXX  (X) .  But  in  the  original  Psalm  it  may 
have  had  its  position  elsewhere  ;  and  Wcllhausen  has  ingeniously 
inserted  the  words  after  the  corresponding  phrase  in  v.  6,  giving 
the  two  together  a  distributive  sense.  This  conjecture  not  only 
adds  to  the  force  of  the  verse,  but  also  explains  the  present  dis- 
location, the  words  having  been  first  omitted  through  a  lapsus 
oculi,  then  inserted  in  the  margin,  and  finally  incorporated  in 
their  present  position  in  the  body  of  the  text. 

*  The  text  is  here  again  concise  to  the  point  almost  of  enigma. 
There  is  perhaps  some  disorder.  But  the  general  sense  is  suffi- 
ciently clear.  The  Psalmist  breaks  into  a  short,  quick  note  of 
joy,  the  rhythm  of  which  is  probably  an  imitation  of  some  popu- 
lar dance  measure. 


196  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

tinction  of  their  dreams.     But  the  faith  and  hope  of 

Israel  not  merely  survived  the  shock  of  national 

ruin  ;   out  of  the  blackness  of  desolation  that  people 

entered  on  its  true  career  of  glory  as  the  spiritual 

guide  and  teacher  of  the  world.     There  is  still  a 

certain  externality  in  the  Psalmist's  dreams.     He 

cannot  picture  a  Kingdom  or  Empire  of  God  without 

its  earthly  centre.     Yet  his  ideal  of  Jerusalem  as 

the  Mother-city  imparts  to  his  thought  of  Israel's 

future  glory  a  freedom  and  universality  of  range 

that  not  even  the  broadest  sweep  of  prophetic  vision 

had  ^^et  reached.     The  prophets  had  foreseen  the 

Gentile   races   streaming   to  Jerusalem   to   receive 

the  instruction  of  Jahweh,  bringing  rich  tribute  of 

gold  and  silver  in  token  of  allegiance.     The  Psalmist 

has  here  risen  to  the  grander  conception  of  a  world- 

,^vide  Empire  in  which  Israel's  bitterest  enemies, 

and  those  most  widely  removed  from  her  influence 

— the    persecutors    Egypt    and    Babylon,    the    old 

enemy   the    '  uncircumcised '    Philistine,   with   the 

:  proud  commercial  city  of  Tyre,  whose  ambitions 

'  seemed  all  for  worldly  wealth  and  splendour,  and 

distant   Gush,   the  land  of  darkness  and  terror — 

'  were  together  embraced  in  the  knowledge  and  fear 

of  Jahweh,  all  of  them  counted  among  the  children, 

and  each  enjoying  the  citizen-rights  of  Zion.     The 

light  was  thus  broadening  to  the  perfect  day  when 

in  God's  Kingdom  there  should  be  '  neither  Jew 


Kingdom  of  God  in  the  Psalms    197 

nor  Greek,  neither  bond  nor  free,  for  all  are  one  in 
Christ  Jesus  '  (Gal.  iii.  28). 

In  the  later  Psalms  there  are  found  many  expres- 
sions of  intense  national  feeling.  But  Jahweh  is 
no  longer  regarded  as  the  God  of  Israel  alone.  Even 
when  His  arm  is  extended  to  save  His  people,  He 
is  the  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth. 

Who  stablished  the  hills  by  His  strength. 

Being  girded  with  might, 
Who  stilleth  the  roar  of  the  seas, 

And  the  noise  of  the  peoples  (Ixv.  6f.), 

and  whose  saving  grace  is  known  through  all  the 
nations,  and  His  fear  and  praise  go  forth  '  to  the 
ends  of  the  earth  '  (Ixvii.  2ff.).  The  universal  reign 
of  Jahweh  is  the  special  theme  of  the  majestic 
group  of  '  new  songs  '  (xciii.-c),  in  which  the  whole 
earth  lifts  up  its  voice  in  praise  of  His  marvellous 
honour  and  majesty,  glory  and  strength,  as  revealed 
alike  in  His  works  of  creative  power,  and  in  His 
righteous,  loving  judgments. 

Jahweh  is  King  ;  let  the  earth  rejoice) 

Let  the  coast-lands  many  be  glad  ! 
Clouds  and  darkness  are  round  Him, 

The  base  of  His  throne  is  righteousness^ 
Fire  marcheth  before  Him, 

And  blazeth  about  His  steps. 

His  lightnings  lightened  the  world, — 

The  earth  beheld  it,  and  writhed  ; 
The  mountains  melted  like  wax 

Before  the  Lord  of  all  the  earth. 
The  heavens  declared  His  righteousness. 

And  all  peoples  beheld  His  glory. 


198  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

Ashamed  are  all  that  worship  idols. 

That  pride  themselves  in  vanities  ; 
But  Zion  heard,  and  was  glad. 

And  the  daughters  of  Judah  rejoiced.''- 
For  Thou,  Jahweh,  art  High  over  all  the  earth. 

Exalted  far  above  all  the  gods. 

Jahweh  loves  the  haters  of  evil  ; 

He  keepeth  the  souls  of  His  saints.* 
Light  shineth  out  for  the  righteous. 

And  joy  for  the  upright  of  heart. 
Rejoice  then  in  Jahweh,  ye  righteous. 

And  praise  His  holy  memorial!  (Ps.  xcvii.). 

In  prophetic  pictures  of  the  coming  Kingdom 
the  central  figure  was  the  ideal  King,  the  glorious 
Messiah  of  later  Jewish  expectation.  Ihe  hope  of 
the  Psalmists  turns  so  directly  on  God  Himself 
that  before  His  pure  radiance  even  the  light  of 
the  Messiah  seems  to  pale.  It  is  Jahweh  who 
here  assumes  the  sovereignty,  and  reigns  in  love 
and  righteousness.  Only  in  three  of  the  later 
Psalms  is  the  great  King  represented  by  an  earthly 
Viceroy.  But  so  deeply  had  the  expectation  of 
the  Messiah  cut  into  the  heart  of  Jewish  piety  that 
one  of  these  Psalms  has  been  singled  out  from  its 
older  context,  and  placed  in  the  forefront  of  the 
Psalter,  as  a  fitting  sequel  to  Ps.  i.,  the  key-note 

^  In  this  stanza  the  closing  stichoi  of  vv.  7  and  8  have  been 
omitted  as  standing  outside  of  the  metrical  scheme  of  the  Psalm. 
They  are  probably  mere  exclamations  or  glosses  of  a  reader. 

'  The  closing  stichos  of  v.  10  is  likewise  but  a  variant  in  thought 
to  the  preceding  phrase. 


Kingdom  of  God  in  the  Psalms    199 

of  the  whole.  The  Psalm  depicts  a  tumultuous 
gathering  of  the  nations  against  Jahweh  and  His 
people.  In  words  full  of  life  and  passion  they  hiss 
out  their  fury,  while  He  remains  seated  on  His 
throne  in  heaven,  '  laughing  '  in  sheer  contempt 
of  their  vain  clamourings.  Then  He  rises  in  His 
wrath,  and  speaks  the  word  of  discomfiture : 

But  I  have  set  my  King 
On  Zion  my  holy  hill. 

I  have  said  to  Him,  '  Thou  art  my  Son  : 

This  day  have  I  begotten  Thee. 
Ask  of  me,  and  I  will  give 

The  nations  for  Thine  inheritance. 
With  a  mace  of  iron  shall  Thou  crush  them. 

As  a  potter's  vessel  shall  shiver  them.' 

Now,  therefore,  ye  kings,  be  wise  ; 

Be  admonished,  ye  judges  of  earth  ! 
Serve  Jahweh  zvith  fear. 

And  with  trembling  bow  down  to  Him,^ 
Lest  He  break    forth  in  wrath,  and  ye  fall  in  your  way. 

For  His  anger  will  soon  flame  out  *  (Ps.  ii.). 

The  Messiah  is  here  the  Divinely  anointed  agent  of 
Jahweh's  wrath  against  the  heathen  who  challenge 
His  supremacy.  And  essentially  the  same  concep 
tion  meets  us  in  Ps.  ex.,  where  the  priest-king 
marches  at  Jahweh's  right  hand  over  the  stricken 

^  I  have  followed  Duhm  in  treating  the  hopelessly  perplexing 
words  "15  -Ip^'?  as  a  broken  variant  to  nny"!3  •17"'H1,  representing 
perhaps  an  original"12  Y>  ^T?p>i,  bow  before  Him  with  trembling. 

»  The  closing  phrase  '"12  ''pin"73  ''"P^,  happy  all  they  that  trust 
in  Him,  is  no  doubt  a  liturgical  addition. 


2  00  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

bodies  of  the  enemy  to  His  throne  of  righteousness. 
This  thought  of  a  warHke  Messiah,  who  should 
save  His  people  from  their  oppressors,  plays  a  large 
part  in  the  eschatology  of  the  Jews,  both  in  religious 
odes  like  the  seventeenth  '  Psalm  of  Solomon  '  and 
in  the  apocalyptic  literature.  But  alongside  of 
this  conception  runs  the  purer  ideal  of  a  King  ruling 
in  mercy  and  love.  The  original  nucleus  of  Ps. 
Ixxii.  may  have  been  a  joyous  accession  Ode  in 
honour  of  one  of  the  later  kings  of  Judah.  But  in 
its  present  form  it  soars  far  beyond  the  earthly 
range.  One  can  hardly  do  justice  to  the  bold 
expectations  of  the  Psalm  except  on  the  assumption 
that  it  describes  the  glories  of  the  Messianic  reign. 

O  God,  give  the  king  Thy  judgment, 

The  king's  son  Thy  righteousness, 
That  He  judge  Thy  people  in  justice, 

And  Thy  poor  with  judgment ! 
That  the  mountains  may  bring  forth  weal. 

And  the  hills  yield  righteousness  ; 
That  He  judge  the  poor  of  the  people. 

And  save  the  sons  of  the  needy  ! 
That  He  reign  as  long  as  the  sun, 

While  the  moon  shines,  age  by  age  ; 
That  He  fall  as  rain  on  the  meadow 

As  showers  that  water  the  earth  ! 

That  in  His  days  right  may  flourish, 
And  well-being  abound  without  measure; 

That  He  reign  from  sea  to  sea, 
From  the  River  to  the  ends  of  the  earth  I 

Before  Him  bow  His  foes. 
His  enemies  lick  the  dust  I 


Kingdom  of  God  in  the  Psalms   201 

The  kings  of  Tarshish  and  the  isles  offer  gifts. 
Kings  of  Sheba  and  Seba  bring  tribute  I 

Before  Him  let  all  kings  bow. 

Let  all  nations  serve  Him ! 
For  He  saveth  the  poor  when  he  crieth, 

The  needy,  and  him  that  hath  no  helper. 

He  pitieth  the  weak  and  the  poor. 

And  saveth  the  souls  of  the  needy. 
Their  souls  will  He  rescue  from  violence. 

For  dear  is  their  blood  in  His  eyes. 

Long  may  He  live  ; 

And  gold  of  Sheba  be  given  Him  I 
Prayer  too  be  made  for  Him  ever  ; 

And  daily  may  He  be  blessed  ! 

Plenty  of  corn  may  there  be  in  the  lana, 

To  the  top  of  the  hills  may  it  rustic  ; 
May  the  fruit  thereof  flourish  as  Lebanon} 

And  they  of  the  city  blossom  like  herbs  of  the  earth  ! 

May  His  name  be  blessed  for  ever. 

His  renown  endure  as  the  sun  I 
May  men  be  blessed  in  Him  ! 

All  nations  call  Him  happy  ! 


^  On  the  recovery  of  the  verb  in  this  stichos,  cf.  Kittel.  If 
the  text  be  sound  in  the  closing  stichos,  the  'fruit  thereof  {i.e., 
of  the  land)  is  most  easily  understood  of  the  people,  the  natural 
parallel  to  which  will  be  '  they  of  the  city.'  The  reading,  how- 
ever is  somewhat  uncertaia. 


CHAPTER    XII 

The  Book   of  Job 

In  the  Psalter  we  have  already  been  brought  into 
touch  with  great  souls  in  conflict  with  the  mysteries 
of  Providence.  But  the  most  heroic  of  these  strug- 
gles is  waged  in  the  Book  of  Job.  Here  the  poetical 
genius  of  Israel  reaches  its  noblest  height.  In  range 
of  imagination,  and  sustained  splendour  of  diction, 
the  Book  not  merely  stands  alone  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, but  takes  a  foremost  place  also  among  the 
masterpieces  of  the  world's  literature.  Tennyson 
but  expresses  the  common  feeling  of  literary  critics 
when  he  pronounces  it  *  the  greatest  poem  whether 
of  ancient  or  of  modern  times.' 

With  this  general  judgment  perhaps  all  would 
concur.  But  when  we  pass  to  a  closer  study  of 
the  Book,  we  are  bewildered  by  the  endless  diversity 
of  opinion  that  meets  us.  Even  on  the  question 
of  the  literary  character  of  Job,  it  is  almost  quot 
homines,  tot  opiniones.  According  to  some  scholars, 
it  is  an  epic  ;  according  to  others,  a  drama,  or 
more  specifically,  a  tragedy ;  and  according  to 
still  others,  a  didactic  poem.    As  if  to  comprehend 


202 


The  Book  of  Job  203 

all  possible  varieties  of  opinion,  Dillmann  calls  it 
'  an  epic-dramatic  didactic  poem '  {ein  episch- 
dramatisch  Lehrgedicht).'^  On  the  other  hand,  there 
are  those  who  refuse  to  class  the  Book  in  any  of 
the  recognized  literary  forms.  '  We  cannot,'  it  is 
said,  '  force  this  splendid  piece  of  Hebrew  wisdom 
into  a  Greek  scheme,  and  it  is  really  futile  to  discuss 
whether  it  is  a  drama  or  an  epic.  It  is  itself.'  ^ 
If  possible,  still  more  diverse  are  the  judgments 
pronounced  on  the  theme  and  purpose  of  the  Book — 
the  *  problem  of  Job.'  Here,  again,  all  possible 
rubrics  and  formulae  have  been  adopted.  The 
sufferings  of  Job  are  described  as  the  trial  of  his 
piety,  the  test  by  which  God  revealed  the  sterling 
reality  and  invincible  strength  of  his  faith  ;  or  as 
the  discipline  through  which  He  purified  his  heart 
from  its  unbelief  and  impiety,  thus  perfecting  his 
faith  and  character.^  Other  authorities  have  found 
the  tendency  of  the  poem  to  be  purely  negative — 
to  clear  the  ground  of  outworn  theories  of  sin  and 
suffering — or  even  sceptical  and  pessimistic*    And 

*  Hiob,  p.  xxiii.         *  Peake,  Job  (Century  Bible),  p.  41. 

^  German  scholars  have  drawn  up  quite  a  table  of  categories 
under  which  Job's  sufferings  may  be  classed  :  Priifungs-,  Bewdhr- 
uiigs-,  Zeugniss-,  Zuchtigungs  und  Ldutenings-,  and  Forderungs- 
Leiden. 

*  Thus  Dr.  E.  J.  Dillon  classes  Job  among  his  Sceptics  of  the 
Old  Testament,  while  Fried.  Delitzsch  describes  the  poem  as  '  The 
Song  of  Songs  {das  Hohelied)  of  Pessimism.'  The  most  extreme 
advocate  of  this  theory  isEugen  Miiller,  pastor  in  Rostock,  who  in 


204  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

others  read  it  simply  as  the  dramatic  representation 
of  a  heroic  soul's  struggle  towards  light  and  peace.^ 
Our  view  of  the  character  and  purpose  of  the 
Book  must  turn  largely  on  the  relation  conceived 
to  exist  between  the  Prologue  and  the  poem  proper. 
The  former  not  merely  sketches  the  scenic  back- 
ground, ai)d  introduces  us  to  the  different  dramatis 
personae,  but  is  governed  by  a  clear  and  consistent 
motive.  The  sufferings  of  Job  are  the  direct  result 
of  the  Satan's  challenge  (i.  9).  If  the  Prologue 
be  an  integral  part  of  the  poem,  we  have  here 
the  key  to  the  interpretation  of  Job.  In  the  inci- 
sive words  of  A.  B.  Davidson :  '  This  question 
— Doth  Job  serve  God  for  nought  ? — is  the  problem 
of  the  book.'  ^  But  the  difficulty  is  just  to  read  the 
poem  in  this  light.  And  the  learning  and  insight 
which  Davidson  and  his  great  confreres,  Delitzsch 
and  Dillmann,  have  applied  to  the  problem  throw 
the  difficulty  into  still  clearer  relief.  It  is  not  merely 
that  the  bearing  of  Job  is  different.  But  the 
whole  centre  of  interest  changes.  In  the  poem, 
the  Satan  and  his  cynical  assaults  on  human  good- 
ness vanish.  It  is  no  longer  Job's  piety,  but  God's 
justice,  that  is  in  question.     As  even  Godet  admits, 

a  recent  monograph,  De^-  echte  Hiob  (1902),  describes  the  poem  as 
atheistic,  setting  forth  '  the  absolute  unrighteousness  of  God  as 
the  solution  of  the  problem.' 

*  Ewald  may  be  regarded  as  the  first  great  exponent  of  this 
view  '  Conini.  on  Job,  p.  xvi. 


The  Book  of  Job  205 

'  The  Being  who  is  brought  to  the  bar  of  judgment 
is  in  reahty  not  Job,  it  is  Jehovah.  The  point  in 
debate  is  not  only  the  virtue  of  Job  ;  it  is,  at  the 
same  time,  and  in  a  still  higher  degree,  the  justice  of 
God.'  ^  And  Job  is  now  the  Prometheus  who 
boldly  joins  issue  with  the  Almighty.  The  problem 
of  the  poem  is  to  reconcile  faith  in  God  with  the 
inequalities  of  His  Providence.  And  it  ends  in 
God's  appearing,  not  to  reveal  to  His  steadfast  servant 
the  meaning  of  his  sufferings,  but  to  vindicate  His 
own  character  as  worthy  of  trust  and  love.^ 

It  is  equally  difficult  to  relate  the  spiritual  view- 
point of  the  Epilogue  to  the  general  tenor  of  the 
poem.  In  His  dazzling  revelation  of  His  majesty 
(xxxviii.  if.  ;  xl.  if.)  Jahweh  describes  Job's  pas- 
sionate speeches  as  '  words  without  knowledge,' 
which  '  darken  counsel '  and  '  cavil '  against  the 
Almighty  and  His  ways.  But  in  the  Epilogue 
(xlii.  yi.)  the  supreme  Vindicator  of  the  righteous 
approves  Job  as  having  consistently  spoken  of 
Him  '  the  thing  that  is  right,'  while  He  hotly  re- 


*  Old  Testament  Studies,  p.  i86. 

*  The  latest  and  most  elaborate  attempt  to  prove  the  integral 
unity  of  Prologue  and  poem,  Dr.  Karl  Kautzsch's  Das  soge- 
nannte  Volksbuch  von  Hiob  (1900),  evades  the  real  difficulty. 
According  to  this  scholar,  the  Prologue  merely  sets  forth  the 
general  facts  of  the  case,  the  appearance  of  Satan  and  his  im- 
peachment of  Job's  piety  being  but  picturesque  staging.  This  is, 
of  course,  to  cut  the  heart  out  of  the  Prologue. 


2o6  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

proves  the  friends  for  their  *  foolish  '  or  '  impious  ' 
words.^  The  Epilogue  appears,  in  fact,  to  be  the 
original  sequel  to  a  series  of  speeches  in  which  the 
'  impious  '  counsel  of  Job's  wife,  to  '  curse  God 
and  die,'  is  followed  by  similar  advice  on  the  part 
of  his  friends — still  more  irreverent,  perhaps,  in 
tone — to  be  rejected  by  the  patient  sufferer  with 
the  same  abhorrence  as  before. 

On  these  grounds  we  seem  irresistibly  led  to  the 
conclusion  first  suggested  by  Wellhausen  in  a  review 
of  Dillmann's  Hiob,^  but  worked  ou^  most  elabo- 
rately by  Budde  and  Duhm,  that  the  prologue  and 
epilogue  formed  the  main  part  of  an  older  prose  tale 
of  Job's  sufferings,  which  the  poet  has  adopted  as 
the  framework  of  the  present  Book,  One  can 
hardly  follow  these  critics,  however,  in  their  idea 
that  this  prose  tale  was  an  early,  pre-exilic  Volks- 
hucJi.  The  materials  were,  no  doubt,  drawn  from 
the  old  tradition  of  Job  known  to  Ezekiel  (xiv.  14, 
20),  who  classes  Job  with  Noah  and  Daniel  as 
ideal  types  of  piety  in  the  hoary  days  of  old.  But 
the  advanced  idea  of  the  Satan  points  unmistakably 

*  n?5J  as  usual,  of  practical  or  moral  '  folly,'  that  is, '  impiety, 
or  '  godlessness.'  The  same  word  is  used  by  Job  to  describe  his 
wife's  attitude.  To  him  she  speaks  D  v33n  nnX3,  '  like  one  of 
the  godless  women '  (ii.  lo).  One  can  hardly  be  wrong,  therefore, 
in  supposing  that  the  tenor  of  the  friend's  speeches  in  the  original 
tale  was  similar  to  hers. 

*  Jahrbiicher  fur  Deutsche  Theologie,  1871,  p.  555. 


The  Book  of  Job  207 

to  the  Persian  era,  while  the  whole  tendency  of  the 
story  appears  too  strongly  marked  for  a  mere  Volks- 
sage.  The  idea  of  the  Satan  as  a  searcher  of  human 
wickedness  is  first  met  with  in  Zech.  iii.  (b.c.  520). 
And  the  problem  of  personal  suffering  became 
most  acute  in  the  immediately  succeeding  genera- 
tions. The  nearest  analogy  to  the  problem  as  it 
confronts  us  in  the  Prologue  of  Job  appears  in  the 
prophecies  of  Malachi  (probably  just  before  the 
happier  age  of  Ezra  and  Nehemiah),  where  we  read 
of  many  forsaking  the  fear  of  Jahweh  because, 
as  they  said,  '  every  one  that  did  evil  was  good  in 
the  sight  of  Jahweh,  and  He  delighted  in  them,' 
while  He  left  the  righteous  languishing  in  poverty 
and  sorrow  ;  wherefore  '  it  was  vain  to  serve  Him, 
and  there  was  no  profit  in  keeping  His  charge  and 
walking  mournfully  before  Him  '  (Mai.  ii.  17 ;  iii. 
14).  1  This  first  draft  of  Job,  then,  we  regard  as 
a  pious  prose  tale  or  epic — somewhat  resembling 
the  narrative  parts  of  Daniel — written  to  cheer  the 
downcast  hearts  of  the  people  of  God  in  those 
troublous  times  that  followed  the  Restoration,  when 
the  righteous  suffered,  and  the  wicked  saw  long 
and  prosperous  years,  and  devout  souls  were  often 


1  The  later  date  of  the  chapters  has  been  convincingly  proved 
by  Karl  Kautzsch  {op.  cit.,  pp.  22fE.),  and  accepted  by  later 
scholars  like  Cornill  {Einleitung^.  p.  270)  and  Nathaniel  Schmidt 
(Messages  of  the  Poets,  pp.  gjS.). 


2  o  8  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

sadly  tempted  to  renounce  their  faith,  for  it  seemed 
so  profitless  to  serve  God  in  sincerity.  By  the 
picture  of  Job  the  upright  suffering  the  loss  of  all 
things,  and  even  the  extreme  of  personal  agony, 
yet  holding  fast  his  faith  in  God,  and  even  blessing 
the  hand  that  smote,  the  writer  encourages  the 
suffering  saints  of  his  own  day  to  bear  their  afflic- 
tions bravely  ;  for  these  are  not,  as  they  imagine 
in  their  heaviness  of  heart,  the  outpouring  of  the 
Divine  wrath  because  of  their  sins,  but  the  test  by 
which  God  is  even  now  revealing  before  angels 
and  men  the  sterling  purity  of  their  faith  and  piety 
Thus  if  they  hold  fast  their  integrity,  as  Job  did, 
they  too  will  be  witnesses  for  God  to  their  genera- 
tion ;  and  soon  He  will  arise  in  His  glory  to  champion 
their  cause,  and  will  bless  their  latter  end  more 
than  their  beginning. 

The  poem  of  Job  was  apparently  written  at  no 
distant  date  from  the  older  prose  epic.^    But  it 


^  The  poem  is  evidently  later  than  Jeremiah,  whose  passion- 
ate cursing  of  his  birth-day  (xx.  i4fE.)  is  imitated  in  Job  iii.  3ff., 
and  also  the  eighth  Psalm  (itself  later  than  the  Priestly  Code), 
which  is  parodied  in  vii.  i  yf .  The  Aramaic  colouring  of  the  poem 
fully  bears  out  this  conclusion  But  the  date  is  not  far  removed 
from  the  Restoration,  as  the  language  is  much  less  decadent 
than  in  the  Song  of  Songs  and  Ecclesiastes  We  may  reasonably 
place  it  about  400  b.c.  The  objection  that  II  Isaiah  contains  a 
deeper  solution  of  the  problem,  and  is,  therefore,  subsequent  to 
Job,  has  no  real  weight,  inasmuch  as  that  prophecy  deals  with 
national,  and  Job  with  personal,  suffering. 


The  Book  of  Job  209 

sounds  far  profounder  depths.  The  Prologue  is 
retained,  indeed,  as  a  general  introduction  to  the 
piece.  But  the  poet  can  no  longer  rest  content 
with  its  simple,  cheerful  view  of  suffering  as  the 
Divine  trial  of  faith,  to  be  made  good  by  double 
prosperity.  Nor  does  he  represent  Job  any  more  as 
the  type  of  the  patient  sufferer.  Instead,  he  brings 
him  to  the  lowest  abyss  of  despair,  and  makes  him 
break  out  into  the  most  blasphemous  invectives 
against  God  and  His  judgments.  We  cannot  doubt 
that  he  thus  gives  expression  to  his  own  personal 
feelings.  The  poet  is  one  who  has  felt  the  iron  of 
suffering  pass  deeply  into  his  own  soul,  and  has 
been  driven  by  the  cold  consolations  of  well-mean- 
ing, though  unsympathetic,  friends  into  open  revolt 
against  the  God  of  popular  imagination,  but  has 
fought  his  way  through  despair  and  doubt,  if  not 
to  clear  light  on  the  problem  of  suffering,  yet  to  a 
freer  and  nobler  faith  in  the  living  God.  And  in 
the  poem  he  has  opened  his  heart,  and  spoken  out 
all  the  feelings  that  passed  through  his  soul  in  his 
agony  of  grief,  till  he  found  rest  again  in 
God. 

There  is  thus  a  distinctly  lyrical  element  in  the 
poem.  The  component  parts  are  often  pure  lyrics 
— the  immediate  outflow  of  the  feelings  of  the  heart. 
But  the  form  of  the  poem  is  dramatic,  the  theme 
being  developed  in  a  series  of  dialogues  between  Job 

14 


2  I  o  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

and  his  friends,  and  the  poem  as  a  whole  leading 
forward  to  a  real  dramatic  denouement.  It  is  true. 
Job  was  never  intended  for  the  stage.  And  the 
dramatic  movement  is  far  less  certain  and  swift  than 
in  a  Greek  tragedy.  The  characters,  also,  lack  the 
strong,  clear-cut  profile  of  great  dramatic  heroes. 
One  may  distinguish  the  grave,  courtly  Eliphaz, 
with  his  awesome  revelations  of  the  Divine,  from  the 
more  timid  and  shrinking  Bildad,  who  can  but  rely 
on  the  traditions  of  the  fathers,  and  the  rough, 
coarse-grained  Zophar,  seeking  rather  to  brow-beat 
than  to  argue  with  his  friend.  Yet  all  three  are  rather 
mere  lay  figures,  to  whom  has  been  committed  the 
defence  of  rusty  maxims,  and  who  repeat  the  same 
old  saws  to  the  increasing  embitterment  of  Job's 
racked  and  tortured  soul,  than  the  imposing  person- 
alities whose  wills  clash  in  deadly  conflict  on  the 
Greek  or  Shakespearian  stage.  The  real  action  of 
the  poem  is  within  the  hero's  own  soul.  If  we  are 
to  describe  it  as  dramatic,  therefore,  we  may  term  it 
a  psychological  or  spiritual  drama — the  poetical 
reflexion  of  one  of  those  dramas  of  real  life  which  in- 
volve '  more  daring  plots,  deeper  passion,  more 
glorious  and  more  mournful  issues  than  ever  were 
witnessed  in  representation.'  ^ 

The  argument  develops  in  three  distinct  Cycles. 

*  Davidson,  Comm.  on  Job,  p.  xvii. 


The  Book  of  T^b  211 

The  first  two  are  complete.  But  the  third  has  suf- 
fered considerable  disorder.  Alike  in  sentiment  and 
poetical  form,  the  larger  part  of  ch.  xxiv.  is  out  of  all 
harmony  with  Job's  usual  replies  to  Eliphaz.  The 
chapter  is  thus,  probably,  a  substitute  for  some  dar- 
ing attack  on  the  Almighty,  which  wounded  the 
feelings  of  a  later  age.  The  three  following  chapters 
present  yet  graver  critical  problems.  Bildad's  clos- 
ing speech  (ch.  xxv.)  is  surprisingly  short  and  broken, 
while  Zophar's  is  missing.  On  the  other  hand,  in 
xxvi.  5ff.  and  xxvii.  7ff.,  there  are  placed  in  Job's 
mouth  expressions  of  wondering  adoration  before 
God's  infinite  majesty,  and  lurid  forewarnings  of 
the  fate  of  the  wicked,  which  vitally  conflict  with  his 
whole  attitude  through  the  poem.  The  current 
explanations — that  the  arguments  of  the  friends  are 
now  exhausted,  and  that,  before  his  final  appeal  to 
the  Almighty,  Job  wishes  to  concede  the  justice  of 
their  case  '  in  the  main  ' — are  mere  evasions  of  the 
difficulty.  In  the  interests  of  literary  art  a  certain 
reconstruction  of  the  speeches  is  necessary.  As 
early  as  the  twelfth  century,  the  Jewish  scholar 
Raschi  suggested  that  xxvii.  iiff.  really  belonged 
to  the  friends  ;  and  since  Kennicott's  bold  adoption 
of  this  hypothesis,  the  disputed  passage,  with  the 
exception  of  vv.  iif.,  has  been  generally  assigned  to 
Zophar,  the  poem  thus  recovering  its  full  artistic 
harmony.    The  parallel  verses,  xxvi.  5ff.,  have  with 


2  12  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

equal  plausibility  been  viewed  as  the  sequel  to  Bil- 
dad's  broken  sentences ;  and  if  Peake  be  right  in 
regarding  xxv.  4-6  as  a  redactional  stitch  in  the  rent 
vesture  of  the  poem,  a  fine  sequence  is  thus  gained. 
As  the  brilliant  monologue  in  ch.  xxviii.  moves  alto- 
gether outside  of  the  orbit  of  Job—being  a  choice 
fragment  of  Wisdom  poetry  which  has  found  an 
accidental  lodgment  here — the  third  Cycle  may  be 
disposed  as  follows  :  Eliphaz  (xxii.).  Job  (xxiii., 
xxiv.),  Bildad  (xxv.  1-3;  xxvi.  5-14),  Job  (xxvi. 
1-4;  xxvii.  2-6,  iif.),  Zophar  (xxvii.  7-10,  13-23), 
Job's  final  reply  being  found  in  the  great  Apologia 
■pro  Vita  Sua  (xxix.-xxxi.),  in  which  he  leaves  his 
friends  behind  him,  and  presents  his  plea  direct  to 
the  Divine  Antagonist  of  his  rights.  Even  the 
Apologia  has  not  escaped  without  certain  evident 
dislocations.  Thus,  into  the  dismal  picture  of 
Job's  present  misery  there  has  been  worked  a  patch 
of  alien  matter  (xxx.  1-8),  closely  resembling  the 
portraiture  of  the  naked  outcasts  in  ch.  xxiv.  And 
the  majestic  approach  to  God,  xxxi.  35-37,  is  now 
followed  by  the  sad  anti-climax  {vv.  38-40),  in  which 
Job  protests  that  his  lields  and  furrows  have  no 
reason  to  cry  out  against  him,  for  his  work  has  all 
been  marked  by  the  strictest  integrity  and  human 
kindness.  These  verses  are  clearly  a  misplaced 
section  of  the  chapter,  having  fallen  out,  perhaps, 
before  v.  35.    The  context  being  thus  restored,  the 


The   Book  of  Job  213 

stage  is  cleared  for  the  heroic  contest  of  man  with 
God.i 

At  the  very  moment,  however,  when  we  wait  with 
breathless  interest  for  the  Antagonist  to  appear,  a 
new  disputant  thrusts  himself  forward.  Elihu's 
name  is  absent  alike  from  the  Prologue,  and  from  the 
main  movement  of  the  poem.  In  the  Epilogue,  too, 
Jahweh  takes  no  account  of  his  appearance.  Nor 
do  his  speeches  contribute  anything  vital  to  the 
unravelling  of  the  plot.  He  does,  indeed,  dwell  with 
reverential  dignity  on  the  greatness,  power,  and 
love  of  God,  and  he  lays  especial  stress  on  the  influ- 
ence of  suffering  as  the  Divinely-appointed  means 
of  chastening  and  perfecting  the  faith  of  the  most 
faithful.  But  even  in  these  respects  his  words  are 
but  laboured  expansions  of  the  earlier  speeches  of 
Eliphaz  (v.  lyff.),  and  the  great  utterance  of  Jahweh 
(xxxviii.  4ff.),  while  the  strong  Aramaic  tincture  of 
the  language  irresistibly  suggests  a  later  origin. 
The  scholarship  of  the  past  century  has,  therefore, 
with  remarkable  unanimity,  pronounced  chs.  xxxii.- 
xxxvii.  an  accretion  on  the  original  poem,  intended 
to  provide  an  intellectual  solution  of  the  problem 
of  Job.  A  chivalrous  attempt  has  been  made  by 
Budde,  however,  to  rescue  Elihu  from  his  fate.  In 
this  reading  of  the  poem,   the  balance  of   truth 

*  An  excellent  survey  of  critical  opinion  on  these  points  is 
given  in  Peake's  Job,  pp.  33f.,  2233 


2  14  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

lies  not  with  Job,  but  with  his  friends,  especially 
Elihu,  who  gives  *  pure  and  unadulterated  expres- 
sion '  to  the  poet's  own  thoughts.  Job  was,  indeed, 
'  a  perfect  and  upright  man.'  But  in  his  earlier 
days  there  were  germs  of  spiritual  pride  and  self- 
righteousness  latent  within  his  heart ;  and  God 
designed  his  sufferings  to  purge  him  of  this  leaven. 
The  first  result  of  his  afflictions  was  to  drive  him 
into  passionate  attacks  on  the  Almighty  for  His  sup- 
posed injustice.  But  the  friends  gradually  softened 
his  bitter  feelings.  Then  Elihu  revealed  to  him 
the  true  meaning  of  his  sufferings.  And  Jahweh 
Himself  appeared  to  drive  home  the  truth.  Where- 
upon Job  withdrew  his  blasphemies,  and  repented 
in  dust  and  ashes. 

Budde  has  submitted  the  language  of  Elihu's 
speeches  to  careful  study,  and  thus  helped  to  rehabil- 
itate them  in  the  estimation  of  fair-minded  scholars. 
But  his  general  interpretation  of  the  poem  can 
hardly  commend  itself  to  our  judgment.  Job  is  the 
real  hero  of  the  piece  ;  and  our  sympathies  are  all 
with  him.  The  friends  may  pour  forth  their  truisms 
— for  their  observations  on  life  are  true  enough  to 
common  experience  ;  Job  may  shock  us  by  his  pro- 
fanities ;  yet  it  is  he  that  holds  our  interest,  and 
that  all  the  more  as  he  girds  himself  for  his  Titanic 
contest  with  the  Almighty.  Our  dramatic  instincts 
cannot,  therefore,  tolerate  such  an  intrusion  as  the 


The   Book  of  Job  215 

long,  diffuse  arguments  of  Elihu.  Job  has  pre- 
sented his  case,  and  challenged  God  to  arraign  him. 
By  all  the  rules  of  art,  Jahweh  must  now  appear  to 
explain  the  mystery  of  Job's  sufferings,  or  at  least 
to  vindicate  His  own  character  as  honourable  and 
just.  And  this  fine  climax  is  gained  if  we  pass 
directly  from  Job's  dignified  appeal  in  xxxi.  35ff. 
to  the  burst  of  glorious  music  with  which  Jahweh 
opens  His  reply  from  the  whirlwind.^ 

It  is  now  almost  universally  agreed  that  the  bril- 
liance of  Jahweh's  words  has  likewise  been  tarnished 
by  an  overlay  of  baser  metal.  The  heavy,  sensuous 
art  of  the  descriptions  of  behemoth  and  leviathan 
(xl.  15-xli,  34)  stands  in  broad  contrast  to  the  swift, 
imaginative  beauty  of  the  preceding  pictures  of 
natural  life  and  order.  Their  effect  is,  further,  to 
divert  attention  from  the  main  issue  of  the  poem. 

*  The  arguments  against  the  originahty  of  Elihu's  speeches 
are  fully  presented  in  the  Commentaries  of  Davidson,  Peake, 
etc.,  and  in  such  Introductions  as  Driver's,  or  McFadyen's. 
The  contrary  view  was  maintained  by  Hengstenberg  and  the 
strictly  conservative  school ;  but  not  till  Budde's  spirited  defence 
did  it  find  much  favour  with  more  advanced  critics.  Budde's 
case  was  first  set  forth  in  his  Beitrdge  zur  Erkldrung  des  Bitches 
Hiob  (1876),  and  has  since  been  re-stated  in  his  Handkommentar 
(1896)  and  Geschichle  der  alihehrdischen  Literatur  (1906).  His 
views  have  been  accepted  by  Wildeboer  and  Cornill,  the  latter 
of  whom  describes  the  speeches  of  Elihu  as  the  '  crown  of  the 
Book  of  Job,'  ofEering,  indeed,  '  the  only  real  solution  of  the 
problem  '  [op.  cit.,  p.  265).  But,  with  a  few  exceptions,  recent 
scholarship  has  pronounced  against  Budde's  interpretation  of 
the  poem. 


2  1 6  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

Both  sections  are,  therefore,  to  be  ehminated  from 
the  original  words.  This  leaves  the  second  uttera  nee 
of  Jahweh  deprived  of  any  real  substance.  But,  as 
the  words  which  introduce  this  speech  (xl.  6f.)  are 
clearly  a  variant  to  the  original  introduction  (xxxviii. 
1-3),  and  as  Job's  reply  in  xl.  3-5  shows  equally 
evident  marks  of  dislocation,  recent  criticism  seems 
justified  in  reading  chs.  xxxviii.,  xxxix.,  and  xl.  2, 
8-14  as  Jahweh 's  one  overwhelming  speech  from  the 
whirlwind,  and  xl.  3-5,  xlii.  2-6  (excluding  the 
stray  variants  from  Jahweh's  speech  in  vv.  3a,  4) 
as  Job's  one  awestruck  reply .^ 

The  modern  reader  is  often  disappointed  with  the 
words  of  Jahweh.  He  may  be  struck  dumb  with 
wonder  before  their  sheer  splendour  of  light 
and  power.  But  he  searches  them  in  vain  for  any 
direct  solution  of  the  problem  of  suffering.  A  number 
of  recent  scholars  have,  therefore,  read  the  chapters 
as  another  noble  piece  of  Wisdom  poetry — some- 
what earlier  than  the  speeches  of  Elihu — exalting 
the  greatness  and  glory  of  the  Eternal,  while  leaving 
the  problem  of  Job  '  an  inscrutable  mystery,  to  be 
treated  with  reverence  by  man.' '    This  theory  of 

1  On  this  question,  also,  the  English  reader  will  find  in  Peake's 
Commentary,  pp.  3290.,  an  illuminating  presentation  of  the  whole 
case. 

2  The  chief  exponents  of  this  view  are  Studer,  Cheyne  {Ency. 
Bibl.,  art.  Job),  Nath.  Schmidt  {Messages  of  the  Poets,  pp.  gof.), 
and  Buchanan  Blake,  in  his  recent  interesting  study  of  The  Book 


The   Book  of  Job  217 

the  Book  not  merely  reduces  it  to  a  magnificent 
torso,  but  appears  to  shift  the  real  centre  of  dramatic 
interest.  The  problem  that  confronted  the  poet  was 
far  less  speculative  than  practical.  He  had  lost  his 
faith,  and  was  painfully  struggling  towards  an  am- 
pler faith.  And  for  victory  in  this  good  fight  he 
needed,  not  so  much  light  on  the  mystery  of  suffer- 
ing, as  a  new  and  richer  revelation  of  God  Himself. 
This  revelation  is  objectified  in  the  Divine  Voice 
from  the  whirlwind.  Stripped  of  its  poetic  dress, 
we  have  here  no  other  than  a  real  vision  of  God  in 
the  works  of  His  hand.  The  poet  who  thus  unveils 
his  spiritual  history  had  sought  to  regain  God  in  the 
feelings  and  cravings  of  his  own  stricken  heart.  But 
there  he  found,  at  the  best,  only  the  reflex  of  his 
struggles — not  the  living  personal  God.  Now  he 
rises  out  of  himself  and  his  self-centred  questionings 
to  contemplate  the  great  Universe  around  him  ;  and 
there  he  sees  all  things  luminous  with  the  light  of 
God's  presence.  In  the  same  way — if  we  may  com- 
pare modern  philosophy  with  ancient  poetry — for 

of  Job  and  the  Problem  of  Suffering,  pp.  i85ff.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  profound  rehgious  significance  of  the  speech  of  Jahweh 
has  been  emphasized  by  Davidson  in  his  great  Commentary  on 
Job,  pp.  xliv.  f.  (cf.  Cambridge  Bible,  pp.  2583.),  W.T.  Davison 
in  his  Wisdom  Literature  of  the  Old  Testament,  pp.  95fE.  (cf.  Diet, 
of  the  Bible,  II.  668f.),  Peake,  Job.  pp.  i6ff.,  3i2ff.,  etc.  But 
perhaps  the  most  illuminating  modern  discussion  of  the  question 
is  to  be  found  in  Duhm's  brilUant  Kurzer  Hand-Commentar , 
pp.  i8ofi. 


2 1 8  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

the  heart  of  man  is  essentially  the  same  in  all  ages — 
the  restless  soul  of  Kant  found  salvation  from  his 
speculative  doubts  in  the  immediate  intuition  of  God 
in  '  the  starry  heavens  above  and  the  moral  law 
within.' 

The  appearance  of  Jahwehthus  effects  the  Kd6apai% 
— ^the  healing  of  the  troubled  and  distracted  spirit — 
which  Aristotle  regards  as  the  true  moral  end  of  the 
drama.  Job  is,  no  doubt,  at  first  overwhelmed  by 
the  vision  of  the  Divine,  and  he  bows  before  Him  in 
humble  reverence  and  awe.  But  as  those  who  saw 
the  fuller  vision  of  God  in  Jesus  Christ  were  drawn 
by  the  spell  of  Eternal  Love,  above  their  first 
crushing  convictions  of  sin,  into  happy  fellowship  with 
that  Love,  so  is  Job  also  raised  from  his  fears  to  new- 
ness of  life  with  God.  Hitherto  he  has  learned  of 
Him  only  by  tradition,  '  by  the  hearing  of  the  ear.' 
Now  he  knows  Him  in  actual  spiritual  experience. 
*  Mine  own  eye  seeth  Thee  '  (xlii.  5.)^  And  the  God 
in  whom  he  will  thenceforward  live  and  move  is  One 
in  whom  his  spirit  can  rest  in  perfect  confidence. 
For  the  revelation  from  the  whirlwind  is  no  mere 
series  of  ironical  questions,  calculated  only  to  be- 
wilder and  confuse  the  mind  they  dazzle  by  their 

^  '  The  poet  leaves  it  open  to  us  to  animate  Job's  repentance 
with  love  as  well  as  awe  and  compunction.  With  fine  feeling  Blake 
in  his  seventeenth  illustration  almost  fills  the  margin  with  pas- 
sages from  the  Johannine  writings.' — Cheyne,  Job  and  Solomon, 
p.  56. 


The  Book  of  Job  219 

brilliance.  It  gives  majestic  impressions  of  the 
beauty  and  harmony  of  the  Universe,  and  of  the 
blended  glory  and  gracious  kindness  of  the  God  who 
made  these  things  all  so  lovely  and  good,  and  who  of 
His  bounty  provides  even  for  the  wild  creatures  of 
the  desert,  who  live  so  far  apart  from  human  life. 
Thus,  while  the  inference  is  not  directly  drawn,  the 
moral  is  clear.  In  the  universe  of  human  life,  as 
well  as  in  the  boundless  Universe  without,  there  is 
much  complexity  and  much  mystery,  many  things 
that  are  far  beyond  our  power  to  comprehend.  But 
the  God  of  wisdom,  power  and  grace  rules  in  both 
worlds.  And  though  often  we  cannot  trace  even 
the  outlines  of  His  purpose,  we  can  yet  trust  Him  to 
rule  our  lives  wisely,  lovingly  and  well.  There  is 
the  same  appeal  to  immediate  intuition,  and  the 
same  moral,  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount.  '  Behold 
the  fowls  of  the  air ;  for  they  sow  not,  neither  do 
they  reap,  nor  gather  into  barns  ;  yet  your  heavenly 
Father  feedeth  them.  Are  ye  not  much  better  than 
they  ?  .  .  .  Consider  the  lilies  of  the  field,  how  they 
grow  ;  they  toil  not,  neither  do  they  spin  ;  and  yet 
I  say  unto  you  that  even  Solomon  in  all  his  glory  was 
not  arrayed  like  one  of  them.  Wherefore,  shall 
God  not  much  more  clothe  you,  O  ye  of  little  faith  ?  * 
(Matt.  vi.  26ff.).i 

*  An  interesting  analogue  to  Job's  solution  of  the  problem  may 
be  found  in  Sophocles'  ripest  tragedies.  Aeschylus  had  regarded 
misfortune  as  the  penalty  paid  for  wrong-doing,  with  the  view  of 


2  2  o  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

The  high  poetical  tone  of  Job  is  sustained  through- 
out. The  speeches  of  the  friends  may  be  marked  by 
a  certain  coldness  of  feeling  ;  and  the  coarse  spirit 
of  Zophar  may  descend  at  times  to  the  mire.  But  in 
their  nobler  moods  they  rise  to  the  spiritual  uplands 
of  great  poetry.  The  first  speech  of  Eliphaz  is  a 
real  masterpiece  of  art.  His  amazing  vision  of  the 
Unseen  Presence  has  appealed  especially  to  the 
kindred  imagination  of  Milton  and  Blake.  But 
every  sensitive  reader  has  been  awed  by  its  weird, 
mysterious  breathings.     And  the  closing  picture  of 

working  out  the  sinner's  moral  discipline  (cf.  his  frequently  re- 
peated Tra^et^d^o?  or  Tra^Tj^uara  /j.aOi)fxaTa,  '  by  suffering  men  learn  '). 
On  the  other  hand,  Sophocles  views  suffering  sub  specie  aetevnit- 
atis,  in  the  light  of  the  eternal  harmony  of  things.  Thus  the 
grievous  sorrows  Philoctetes  had  to  bear  are  conceived  to  have 
been  laid  upon  him  '  by  the  care  of  one  of  the  gods,'  that  he  might 
be  held  in  reserve,  and  braced  in  character,  for  his  appointed  task 
in  the  overthrow  of  Troy  ;  and  when  Heracles  at  length  reveals 
the  purpose  of  the  gods,  he  accepts  his  destiny  with  courage  and 
joy  (//.  i452ff.).  The  tragedy  of  Oedipus  ends  in  the  same  atmo- 
sphere of  peace.  The  sorelj^^-afflicted  hero  finds  himself  now  re- 
conciled to  heaven,  surrounded  by  the  love  of  devoted  children, 
and  honoured  by  the  friendship  of  kindly  Athens  and  its  chival- 
rous king,  and  gently  yields  his  life  to  the  touch  of  the  gods,  his 
destiny  thus  finding  'a  perfect  end'  {Oed.  Col.,  I.  1779).  In 
boththesedramas,  then,  Sophocles  '  views  the  problem  of  human 
suffering  with  the  eye  of  faith,  and  in  proportion  as  he  sets  before 
him  an  ideal  of  an  all-powerful  divinity,  who  is  merciful,  loving, 
and  gracious,  so  does  it  become  easy  for  him  to  bear  patiently  with 
the  evil  and  suffering  in  the  world,  in  the  serene  belief  that,  were 
man's  vision  wide  enough,  he  would  see  joy  and  sorrow  to  be  parts 
of  one  harmonious  whole  '  (Mrs.  Adam,  in  Early  Ideals  of  Right- 
eousness, p.  42). 


The  Book  of  Job  221 

the  good  man's  happiness  is  idylHc  in  its  tenderness 
and  grace.  Even  the  rough  heart  of  Zophar  is 
moved  to  sweet  poetic  notes  when  melted  by  sym- 
pathy for  his  friend,  or  hushed  in  reverence  before 
the  Almighty.  And  the  last  embittered  speech  of 
Eliphaz  ends  with  the  same  fair  vision  of  peace  and 
joy  in  God  (xxii,  2iff.).  But,  though  he  thus  lavishes 
the  rich  resources  of  his  art  on  all  parts  of  the  dia- 
logue, the  poet  throws  his  full  strength  into  the 
struggle  of  Job.  In  imaginative  feeling  these 
speeches  are  equalled  only  by  Shakespeare — if 
indeed  even  by  him.  The  poet  passes  with  his  hero 
through  the  darkest  valleys  of  religious  doubt,  and 
even  defiant  unbelief.  With  withering  sarcasm  he 
rends  the  poor  figments  of  popular  faith.  In  the 
proud  consciousness  of  his  own  integrity  he  hurls  his 
bolts  against  the  Almighty  Himself.  But  then,  at 
the  thought  of  his  hopeless  sufferings  and  his  swiftly 
approaching  end,  he  turns  to  Him  in  plaintive  appeal 
for  sympathy.  He  looks  forward  to  death,  now 
with  a  wistful  pleasure,  and  again  with  horror  and 
indignation.  Out  of  the  darkness  he  rises  at  times 
to  the  Delectable  Mountains,  from  which  the  gates 
of  the  Celestial  City  are  seen  with  a  clearness  of 
vision  that  startles  and  bewilders  him.  With  the 
Almighty  Friend  he  ascends  to  heaven  itself,  and 
surveys  the  Universe  with  the  eyes  of  the  Divine. 
The  whole  poem  is  studded  with  exquisite  pictures 


2  2  2  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

of  natural  life  and  scenery.  But  in  the  speech  of 
Jahweh  the  poet's  genius  reaches  its  loftiest  height. 
For  beauty  and  truth — perfect  truth  to  the  living 
heart  of  Nature — these  visions  are  unsurpassed  in 
literature.  As  Carlyle  says, '  There  is  the  seeing  eye, 
the  understanding  heart.  So  true  every  way  :  true 
insight  and  vision  for  all  things  ;  material  things  no 
less  than  spiritual  ....  Such  living  likenesses 
were  never  since  drawn.'  It  is  all  as  great  '  as  the 
summer  midnight,  as  the  world  with  its  seas  and 
stars  !  There  is  nothing  written,  I  think,  in  the 
Bible  or  out  of  it,  of  equal  literary  merit.'  ^ 

1-  Lectures  on  Heroes — '  The  Hero  as  Prophet.' 


CHAPTER   XIII 

The  Patience  of  Job 

In  its  opening  scene  the  Prologue  introduces  us  to 
Job,  a  man  that  was  '  perfect  and  upright,  one  that 
feared  God  and  eschewed  evil,'  surrounded  with  all 
the  prosperity  that,  according  to  the  religious  axiom 
of  the  day,  belonged  of  right  to  the  good — a  wealth 
of  substance  that  made  him  '  the  greatest  of  all  the 
children  of  the  East,'  and  a  family  of  loving  sons  and 
daughters,  for  whom  life  was  one  long  round  of  social 
mirth.  Even  in  those  days  of  simple  faith  increase 
of  worldly  treasure  was  wont  to  draw  the  heart  from 
God.  But  Job's  prosperity  made  him  the  more 
scrupulous  in  his  regard  for  His  honour.  Thus  not 
only  did  he  eschew  open  evil  in  himself,  but  he  sought 
to  guard  against  even  the  subtlest  appearance  of 
unconscious  sin  in  his  children's  hearts.  He  was, 
indeed,  no  morose  Puritan.  He  rejoiced  in  their 
innocent  enjoyments.  But  he  knew  how  easily 
pleasure  may  lead  to  forgetfulness  of  God.  And 
therefore,  week  by  week,  when  the  cycle  of  their 
feasting  was  gone  round,  he  sent  and  sanctified  them, 
and    offered    burnt    offerings    according    to     the 

823 


2  24  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

number  of  them  all ;  for  Job  said,  *  It  may  be  that 
my  sons  have  sinned,  and  cursed  ^  God  in  their 
hearts.' 

The  scene  now  shifts  from  earth  to  heaven.  Jah- 
weh  is  revealed  seated  on  His  throne,  receiving  the 
reports  of  His  ministers  of  State,  the  heavenly 
beings  who  do  His  royal  business.  Among  them  ap- 
pears the  Satan,  a  sort  of  Prosecutor-General,  whose 
function  is  to  search  out  men's  character  and  works, 
to  detect  their  sins  and  failings,  and  so  oppose  their 
claims  to  a  righteous  standing  before  God.  He  has 
been  scouring  through  the  earth,  gathering  up  his 
tale  of  ill  report,  and  he  comes  with  a  certain  mali- 
cious glee  to  pour  it  into  the  ears  of  the  King.  But 
the  God  who  has  no  pleasure  in  evil  meets  him  with 
at  least  one  clear  case  of  goodness.  '  Hast  thou  con- 
sidered my  servant  Job,  that  there  is  none  like  him 
in  the  earth,  a  perfect  and  an  upright  man,  one  that 
feareth  God  and  escheweth  evil  ?  '  The  Satan's 
knowledge  of  frail  mankind  has  given  him  such  a 
contempt  for  human  virtue  that  he  will  make  no 
exception  even  of  Job.  He  does,  indeed,  admit  the 
fact  of  his  exemplary  piety.  But  he  raises  the 
fiendish  suggestion :  '  Doth  Job  serve  God  for 
nought  ?  '     Is  not  self-interest  the  root  of  all  his 

1  The  1]-)2, '  bless/  of  this  and  following  verses,  is  most  probably 
a  euphemism  for  '  curse.'  In  any  case,  with  fine  dramatic  effect, 
the  temptation  of  Job  is  made  to  centre  round  the  very  sin  he 
feared  his  children  might  be  unwittingly  lured  into. 


The  Patience  of  Job         225 

fine  piety  ?  '  Hast  not  Thou  made  an  hedge  about 
him,  and  about  all  that  he  hath  on  every  side  ? 
Thou  hast  blessed  the  work  of  his  hands,  and  his 
substance  is  increased  in  the  land.'  Then  he 
throws  down  the  gauntlet,  and  challenges  God  to 
a  test  of  His  servant's  piety.  '  Put  forth  Thine 
hand  now,  and  touch  all  that  he  hath ;  and  see 
whether  he  will  not  curse  Thee  to  Thy  face  !  '  Jah- 
weh  instantly  accepts  the  challenge.  He  knows  His 
servant  Job  is  '  a  perfect  and  upright  man,'  who  will 
hold  fast  his  faith  through  fortune  good  or  ill.  But 
suspicion  has  been  cast  on  the  sincerity  of  his  mot- 
ives. And  the  servant  of  God  must  be  above  sus- 
picion. Therefore  He  hands  him  over  to  the  Satan's 
power ;  and  '  he  goes  out  from  the  presence  of 
Jahweh.' 

In  the  next  scene  we  have  the  terrible  sequel.  It 
is  the  day  when  Job's  children  are  eating  and  drink- 
ing in  their  elder  brother's  house.  That  very  morn- 
ing their  father  has  '  sent  and  sanctified  them,' 
making  atonement  for  all  possible  guilt  incurred  by 
thoughtless  sin,  and  his  heart  now  rests  in  peace 
within  him,  trusting  his  lot  and  theirs  to  the  Al- 
mighty Love,  when  suddenly,  with  tragic  swiftness, 
messenger  after  messenger  brings  tidings  of  disaster, 
utter  and  irreparable.  His  oxen,  sheep,  camels  and 
servants,  and — last  crushing  blow — his  sons  and 
daughters  have  been  swept  away,  and  Job  is  left 

15 


2  2  6  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

with  nought  but  his  piety.  The  Satan  had  confi- 
dently counted  on  his  casting  that  also  from  him, 
and  '  cursing  God  to  His  face.'  But  loss  and  sorrow 
unveiled  the  full  splendour  of  Job's  faith.  In  the 
midst  of  his  desolation,  notwithstanding  his  belief 
that  God  had  afflicted  him  thus,  he  '  imputed  no 
wrong  to  God,'  but  fell  to  the  earth,  and  worshipped 
Him.  '  The  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  hath  taken 
away  ;    blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord  !  ' 

Again  the  heavenly  Court  is  convened.  The 
heart  of  Jahweh  is  filled  with  quiet  exultation  be- 
cause of  His  servant's  victorious  faith.  '  Hast  thou 
considered  my  servant  Job,  that  there  is  none  like 
him  in  the  earth,  a  perfect  and  an  upright  man,  one 
that  feareth  God  and  escheweth  evil  ?  And  still  he 
holdeth  fast  his  integrity,  though  thou  movedst  me 
against  him,  to  ruin  him  without  cause  ! '  But  the 
Satan  is  as  cynically  suspicious  as  ever.  Talk  not 
to  him  of  human  goodness  !  It  is  all  mercenary,  a 
matter  of  profit  and  interest, '  skin  for  skin,'  measure 
for  measure.  Yes  !  Job  can  bear  easily  enough 
the  loss  of  goods  and  children.  But  touch  himself, 
*  his  own  bone  and  flesh,'  and  see  whether  he  will 
not  '  curse  Thee  to  Thy  face  ! '  And  anon  we  find 
Job  seated  on  the  village  ash-heap,  smitten  with  a 
slow  and  fatal  disease,  the  most  loathsome  and 
painful  of  all,  a  disease  whose  very  name  marked  it 
out  as  God's  peculiar  '  stroke '  for  sin.^    To  add  to 

1  V}^,    leprosy,  lit.  stroke. 


The  Patience  of  Job         227 

his  misery,  his  wife  assumes  the  role  of  the  Satan's 
advocate.  *  If  this  be  all  the  reward  of  thy  piety, 
have  done  with  it  !  Curse  God,  that  He  may  slay 
thee  outright,  and  release  thee  from  thy  sufferings  !' 
But  Job's  faith  can  stand  the  last  extremity  of  trial. 
Thus  his  answer  is  the  classical  expression  even  of 
Christian  resignation.  '  Good  shall  we  receive  of 
God,  and  not  also  evil  (when  He  sends  it)  ?  ' 

In  due  course  the  three  friends  cross  the  stage. 
They  have  heard  of  the  evil  that  has  come  upon  Job, 
and  are  gathered  to  comfort  him.  Nothing  could  be 
finer  than  their  first  manifestation  of  sympathy. 
'  When  they  lifted  up  their  eyes  from  afar,  and  knew 
him  not ' — ^his  countenance  was  so  marred — 'they  lift- 
ed up  their  voice,  and  wept ;  and  they  rent  every  one 
his  mantle,  and  sprinkled  dust  upon  their  heads  ; 
and  they  sat  with  him  upon  the  ground  seven  days 
and  seven  nights,  no  one  speaking  a  word  unto  him, 
for  they  saw  that  his  pain  was  very  great.'  But 
this  very  sympathy  for  their  friend  appears  to  have 
betrayed  them  into  reflections  on  God's  just  rule, 
that  might  well  have  seduced  the  purest  heart  into 
impiety.  Yet  out  of  this  trial,  too,  Job  emerges  as 
gold  from  the  furnace.  And  now  the  great  Recon- 
ciler comes  to  vindicate  His  servant's  faith.  His 
wrath  is  kindled  against  the  friends  '  because  they 
have  not  spoken  of  Him  the  thing  that  is  right,'  as 
Job  has  consistently  done.    He  can  accept  them 


2  2  8  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

only  when  they  have  offered  sacrifice  for  their  '  im- 
piety,' and  Job  has  interceded  on  their  behalf.  But 
his  bearing  throughout  He  approves  as  perfectly 
right  and  good.  And  in  token  of  His  approval  He 
'  changes  Job's  fortune,'  restoring  him  twice  as  much 
as  he  had  before.  Thus  Job  lives  in  honour  and 
respect  among  his  fellows,  having  the  joy  of  seeing 
his  sons  and  his  sons'  sons,  even  four  generations, 
until  at  last  he  dies,  '  being  old  and  full  of  days.' 


CHAPTER    XIV 

The  Spiritual  Drama  of  Job 

The  prelude  of  the  poem  shows  Job  in  the  midst  of 
his  desolation,  dark  thoughts  of  God's  inscrutable 
Providence  surging  in  his  soul,  and  his  friends 
gathered  around  to  comfort  him,  but  speechless  in 
their  sympathy — his  pain  was  so  great.  Seven 
days  thus  pass  in  silent  sorrow.  But  the  warm  touch 
of  friendship  unseals  the  fountain  of  the  heart ; 
and  the  sufferer  opens  his  mouth  and  pours  out  his 
pent-up  feelings.  With  consummate  art  the  poet 
leads  up  to  the  inevitable  crisis.  A  long-drawn  wail, 
in  which  Job  curses  his  day,  because  it  brought  him 
forth  to  all  this  agony,  and  longs  wistfully  for  death 
and  Sheol,  where  '  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling, 
and  the  weary  are  at  rest,'  a  hushed  allusion  to  the 
unnamed  One  who  has  '  given  light  to  him  that  is  in 
misery,  and  life  to  the  bitter  in  soul,'  and  at  length 
Job  musters  courage  to  address  God  as  the  One  who 
has  '  hid  his  way,'  and  '  set  an  hedge  about  him,' 
so  that  he  can  turn  neithe.'lhis  way  nor  that  (iii.  23). 
The  reverent  spirit  of  Eliphaz  is  wounded  by  Job's 
impatience,  and  still  more  pained  by  his  contempt 

229 


230  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

for  God's  wise  rule.  A  man  like  Job,  who  has 
strengthened  and  comforted  others  in  their  afflic- 
tion, might  surely  be  expected  to  endure  with  cour- 
age when  it  touched  himself.  Was  not  the  fear  of 
God  his  confidence,  and  his  hope  '  the  integrity  of 
his  ways  ?  '  And  who  ever  heard  of  the  innocent 
man  perishing,  or  the  upright  being  cut  off  in  the 
midst  of  his  days  ?  (iv.  3ff.).  No  one,  indeed,  is  per- 
fect before  God.  The  very  angels  of  heaven  are 
impure  in  His  sight — how  much  more  they  '  that 
dwell  in  houses  of  clay  !  '  (iv.  I2ff.).  But  God  is 
piteous  and  kind,  eager  to  save  the  poor  and  needy. 
Let  Job  but  seek  unto  Him,  and  despise  not  His 
chastenings  ;  and  He  will  deliver  him  from  all  his 
troubles.  '  He  who  has  made  sore  will  likewise  bind 
up ;  the  hands  that  have  wounded  will  also  make 
whole.'  And  no  evil  shall  henceforth  be  per- 
mitted to  touch  the  friend  of  God.  In  famine  and 
war  he  shall  be  saved  from  death.  When  pestilence 
comes,  he  shall  be  free  from  fear.  His  tent  will 
have  peace,  and  nothing  shall  be  missed  from  his 
fold.  His  seed  will  be  great,  his  offspring  even  '  as 
the  grass  of  the  earth  ;  '  and  he  shall  come  to  the 
grave  in  a  ripe  old  age,  '  like  a  shock  of  corn  in  its 
season '  (v.  8ff.). 

These  glowing  words  are  as  full  of  tender  sym- 
pathy as  they  are  devout  in  tone.  Eliphaz  has 
sought  to  avoid  all  that  would  hurt  his  friend's 


The  Spiritual  Drama  of  Job     231 

feelings.  For  he  loves  him,  and  longs  to  help  him 
In  his  troubles.  But  he  lacks  the  breadth  of  mind, 
and  that  full,  deep  understanding  of  the  heart,  so 
necessary  to  the  true  comforter.  Thus  the  only 
effect  of  his  speech  is  to  drive  Job  into  fierce  remon- 
strance with  God  for  His  inexplicable  cruelty.  His 
words  have  been  rash,  forsooth  !  But  if  only  his 
sorrows  were  weighed,  and  his  sufferings  laid  in 
the  balance,  this  rashness  might  well  be  excused ; 
for  his  griefs  would  be  found  '  heavier  than  the  sand 
of  the  seas.'  God's  arrows  are  within  him  ;  their 
poison  his  spirit  has  drunk.  God's  terrors  have 
'  marshalled  themselves  against  him,'  and  he  has  no 
strength  to  resist  them  (vi.  iff.).  His  life  has  thus 
become  a  weary  round  of  unrelieved  misery. 

As  a  servant  that  longs  for  the  shadow, 

Or  an  hireling  that  looks  for  his  wage, 
I  am  heir  to  long  months  of  affliction. 

And  nights  of  distress  are  doled  out  to  me. 

If  I  lie  down  to  sleep,  I  say  : 

'  O  when  will  the  day  come  for  rising  ?  * 

If  I  rise,  '  0  when  comes  the  night  ?  ' 
And  I'm  wearied  with  tossings  till  dawn 

Clothed  is  my  flesh  with  worms  ; 

My  skin  heals,  and  opens  afresh. 
My  days  pass  swifter  than  shuttle  ; 

They  are  spent  without  ray  of  hope  (vii.  2ft.). 

And  God  will  not  leave  him  alone  for  a  moment,  but 
sets  a  watch  over  him,  as  though  he  were  a  sea-mon- 
ster, or  the  dragon  of  the  deep,  and  even  when  he 


2^2  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

seeks  some  ease  on  his  couch  by  night,  scares  him 
with  dreams  and  terrifies  him  with  visions,  so  that  a 
death  of  strangling  were  better  than  pains  like  these. 
In  bitter  parody  of  the  eighth  Psalm  he  asks  : — 

What  is  man  that  Thou  honourest  him, 

That  on  him  Thou  settest  Thy  thought  ; 
That  Thou  visitest  him  each  morning, 

And  triest  him  every  moment  ? 

O  when  wilt  Thou  look  away, 

A  nd  leave  me  to  swallow  my  spittle  ? 
Why  set  me  up  as  a  butt  for  Thee, 

As  a  burden  in  Thy  path  ? 
Why  not  forgive  my  sin. 

And  make  my  wrong-doing  to  pass? 
For  soon  shall  I  lie  in  the  dust  ; 

And  Thou'lt  seek  me,  but  find  me  no  more  (vii.  lyff.)- 

The  second  of  the  friends,  Bildad,  is  horror- 
stricken  at  Job's  impiety,  and  appeals  in  awed  tones 
to  God's  inflexible  justice.  But  this  only  rouses 
him  to  more  daring  invectives  against  the  Almighty. 
God  is  supreme  Arbiter  of  justice,  indeed.  But 
what  if  He  be  partial,  or  actually  unjust,  in  His 
judgments  ?  Who  then  can  put  himself  in  the  right 
with  Him  ?  If  they  went  to  court  together,  there 
was  no  daysman  to  stand  between  them,  and  see 
justice  done.  And  if  God  plied  him  with  His  deep 
questions,  how  could  he  answer  even  one  of  a  thous- 
and ?  God  is  so  great  and  terrible  that,  however 
innocent  he  might  be,  he  must  yet  bow  prostrate 
before  Him,  and  plead  guilty. 


The  Spiritual  Drama  of  Job     233 

God  holdeth  not  back  His  wrath, 

'Neath  Him  bow  the  helpers  of  Rahab  ; 

How  can  I  answer  Him  then. 

Or  choose  out  my  words  against  Him  ? 

Were  I  right,  no  answer  I'd  find. 

But  must  kneel  before  my  Judge  ; 
If  I  called  Him  to  court,  no  answer  He'd  give, —  * 

No  hope  I  have  He  would  hear  me  (ix.  13ft.). 

But  Job  is  determined  to  fight  the  matter  out. 
Therefore  in  one  burst  of  desperate  defiance  he 
arraigns  his  almighty  Antagonist.  He  has  no 
regard  for  his  life.  He  spurns  it  as  a  hateful  thing. 
Let  God  therefore  slay  him,  if  He  please  !  He  will 
speak  his  mind.  '  I  am  innocent  ;  but  it  is  all  one. 
God  destroyeth  the  innocent  and  the  wicked  alike.' 
There  is  no  justice  in  His  rule.  Injustice  prevails 
throughout  the  world.  When  plague  comes,  the 
innocent  are  slain  equally  with  the  wicked  ;  and 
God  mocks  at  their  despair.  '  The  earth  is  given 
over  to  the  power  of  the  wicked  ;  and  God  blindcth 
the  eyes  of  its  judges,'  so  that  they  can  no  longer 
distinguish  between  right  and  wrong.  And  God 
cannot  deny  the  charge.  '  If  it  be  not  He,  who  then 
is  it  ?  '  (ix.  2iff.). 

It  is  useless  for  Job,  therefore,  even  to  attempt 
to  purify  his  ways. 

'^  Job  here  presents  an  alternative.  If  God  summon  Him  to 
court,  he  cannot  answer  ;  if  he  summon  God,  He  will  not.  (On 
the  reading,  cf.  Kittel,  Biblia  Hebraica.) 


2  34  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

Though  I  wash  me  white  with  snow. 

And  cleanse  my  hands  with  lye, 
Thou  wilt  plunge  me  anew  in  the  mire. 

That  my  very  clothes  abhor  me  (ix.  3of.). 


There  seems  no  limit  to  Job's  reckless  defiance  of  the 
Almighty.  God  is  not  merely  unjust,  but  He  is 
devoid  of  all  dignity  and  honour.  He  has  not  the 
generosity  to  forgive  his  sins,  and  forget  them  ;  but 
like  a  petty  inquisitor  He  spies  on  his  minutest 
actions,  and  delights  to  search  out  his  faults  (x.  3ff.). 
He  even  rakes  up  the  ashes  of  the  long  dead  past, 
and  brings  against  him  the  sins  of  his  thoughtless 
youth.  In  his  wild  frenzy.  Job  imputes  to  God  the 
most  exquisite  refinement  of  cruelty  ;  for,  as  he 
broods  over  his  past  happiness,  the  terrible  thought 
occurs  to  him  that  God  fashioned  him,  and  crowned 
him  with  favour,  and  made  his  past  life  so  joyous 
and  good — only  to  hurl  him  into  these  calamities 
and  so  to  aggravate  his  pain  (x.  8ff.). 

Job  has  thus  declared  war  a  Voutrance  against  the 
theology  of  his  age.  He  has  not  merely  challenged 
the  orthodox  doctrine  that  suffering  is  the  sure 
accompaniment  of  sin,  but  has  even  pronounced 
God's  reign  unjust  and  dishonourable.  If  this  were 
Job's  last  word,  or  if  the  poem  were  logically  con- 
sistent, its  tendency  might  well  appear  atheistic ; 
for  an  unjust  or  immoral  God  would  be  no  real  God. 
But  the  life  which  poetry  reflects  is  more  than  logic. 


The  Spiritual  Drama  of  Job     235 

In  times  of  darkness  and  doubt  the  feelings  oscillate, 
often  from  one  extreme  to  the  other.  The  poet  has 
depicted  Job  in  such  a  state.  He  has  lost  his  old 
moorings,  and  plunges  hither  and  thither  on  a  *  sea 
of  troubles.'  Now  he  sinks  to  the  trough  of  the 
wave.  But  again  he  rises  on  its  crest  to  heights  of 
faith  unknown  to  the  unruffled  orthodoxy  of  his 
friends.  And  the  movement  of  his  soul  is  no  vain 
tumult  of  the  waves.  The  current  sets  steadily 
forward  to  God  and  faith ;  and  herein  lies  the  real 
interest  of  the  poem. 

Even  in  the  earlier  chapters  Job  begins  to  recoil 
from  his  doubts.  He  has  looked  to  his  friends  for 
pity  ;  but  they  have  failed  him  like  the  brooks  that 
come  down  full  in  spring-time  when  the  ice  and 
snow  melt,  but  dry  up  in  the  heat  of  summer,  when 
men  most  need  their  refreshing  draughts  (vi,  I5ff.)- 
His  only  hope  thus  lies  in  God's  mercy.  In  the 
frenzy  of  his  pain  he  has  pictured  Him  as  a  very 
monster  of  cruelty,  who  shows  His  hapless  creatures 
favour,  only  to  add  to  their  grief.  But,  in  his  craving 
for  a  friend  to  pity  him,  he  turns  to  God  with  a  new 
longing.  He  feels  that  the  God  with  whom  he  once 
walked  so  lovingly  cannot  abandon  him  to  never- 
ending  misery.  His  present  wrath  will  pass  away, 
and  He  will  again  have  mercy  on  His  friend,  before 
He  lay  him  in  the  dust,  where  He  shall  find  him  no 
more.     Or  even  if  He  leave  him  to  perish  in  his 


236  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

misery.  He  will  in  after  days  remember  him,  and 
repent,  and  come  down  to  do  him  justice  (vii.  21,  etc.). 
For  the  injustice  of  his  friends  drives  him  back 
likewise  on  the  justice  of  God.  Innate  courtesy  and 
affection  have  kept  Eliphaz  and  Bildad  from  direct 
assaults  on  Job's  sincerity.  But  Zophar  has  no  such 
scruples,  and  aims  a  rude,  stinging  blow  direct  at 
the  heart.  Job  is  wounded  to  the  quick,  and  turns 
upon  him  with  biting  sarcasm.  No  doubt,  he  and 
his  friends  are  '  the  people,'  and  wisdom  will  die 
with  them  !  But  they  are  all  three  mere  '  daubers  of 
lies  '  and  '  patchers  of  vanities,'  who  meanly  '  respect 
God's  person,'  and  seek  to  justify  His  ways  by 
'  maxims  of  ashes,'  from  which  the  life  has  gone,  and 
defences  no  more  impregnable  than  '  breastworks 
of  clay  '  (xiii.  4ff.).  And  he  warns  them  that,  if 
they  continue  in  this  course,  God  will  break  out 
upon  them  in  His  dreadful  excellency  ;  for  He  is  a 
God  that  respecteth  truth  and  straightforwardness 
alone  (xiii.  lof.).  With  this  new  sense  of  God's 
justice.  Job  longs  to  bring  his  case  before  His  judg- 
ment seat.  For  if  he  could  but  win  his  way  to  God's 
presence,  he  is  persuaded,  that  fact  alone  would 
prove  his  salvation  ;  inasmuch  as  no  godless  man 
can  come  before  Him  (xiii.  16).  And,  if  he  once  suc- 
ceeded in  laying  his  case  fairly  before  the  Judge,  he 
feels  sure  he  must  be  justified,  for  he  is  innocent  of 
all  grave  transgression.     In  spite  of  God's  terrors. 


The  Spiritual  Drama  of  Job     237 

therefore.  Job  is  determined  to  appear  and  plead 
his  case.  God  may  slay  him  for  his  presumption ; 
nevertheless,  he  will  take  his  life  in  his  hand,  and  will 
maintain  his  ways  before  Him. 

Silence,  that  I  may  speak  ; 

And  come  on  me  what  may  ! 
I  will  take  my  flesh  on  my  teeth,''- 

And  my  life  will  I  hold  in  my  hands. 
He  may  slay  me — /  hope  for  nought  else  ! — 

Yet  my  ways  I'll  maintain  to  His  face  (xiii.  i3fE.). 

Two  conditions  only  he  lays  down  :  that  God  will 
remove  His  terrors,  so  that  he  may  be  able  to  state 
his  case  calmly  ;  and  that  He  will  be  frank  with 
him,  and  tell  him  plainly  wherein  he  has  sinned. 

But  two  things  do  not  with  me. 

Then  from  Thy  face  will  I  hide  not, — 
Thy  hand  move  far  from  my  presence, 

A  nd  let  not  Thy  terror  affright  me  ! 

Then  call  Thou,  and  I  will  answer  ; 

Or  if  I  speak,  do  Thou  reply  ! 
What  is  the  tale  of  my  sins  ? 

My  transgressions  unfold  to  me  !  (xiii.  2off.). 

If  Job's  mind  be  thus  in  a  state  of  flux,  his  friends 
are  rigid  as  ever.  His  daiing  utterances  make 
them  the  more  convinced  that  he  is  concealing  some 
grievous  sin  in  his  heart.     And  they  seek  now  to 

1  The  nO"?y,  '  wherefore  ?  '  which  introduces  v.  14,  arises  by 
mere  dittography  from  the  immediately  preceding  HD  ''^{?.  The 
verse  is  no  question,  but  an  expression  of  almost  superliumao 
daring. 


238  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

awaken  him  to  a  sense  of  his  guilt  by  lurid  descrip- 
tions of  the  fate  of  the  wicked.  In  this  second 
Cycle  the  gentle  Bildad  is  as  merciless  as  Zophar. 

Shall  the  earth  be  forsaken  for  thee, 
Or  the  rock  removed  from  its  place  ? 

Nay,  the  light  of  the  wicked  goes  out. 
And  the  flame  of  his  fire  gleams  no  more. 

The  light  is  dark  in  his  tent. 

And  his  lamp  is  extinguished  above  him. 

The  steps  of  his  strength  shall  be  straitened, 

And  his  counsel  shall  bring  him  low. 
For  his  feet  plunge  into  a  net  ; 

He  walketh  over  a  pitfall. 

A  gin  lays  hold  of  his  heel. 

And  a  snare  grippeth  him  fast. 
A  noose  is  hid  in  the  ground, 

And  a  trap  is  set  in  his  way. 

On  every  side  terrors  affright  him. 

And  press  him  hard  at  his  heels. 
Ruin  doth  hunger  for  him, 

And  destruction  awaiteth  his  falling. 

Death's  first-born  shall  prey  on  his  members, 

To  the  King  of  terrors  shall  drive  him. 
Belial  shall  live  in  his  tent. 

O'er  his  dwelling  shall  brimstone  be  scattered. 

His  roots  underneath  him  shall  rot. 

And  his  branches  above  shall  be  withered. 

His  remembrance  shall  fade  from  the  land. 
And  his  name  be  forgotten  abroad. 

From  light  he  is  driven  into  darkness. 

And  out  of  the  world  is  he  chased. 
No  son,  nor  son's  son,  shall  be  left  him  ; 

Where  he  sojourned,  no  remnant  abides. 


The  Spiritual  Drama  of  Job     239 

Confounded  are  those  that  come  after. 

As  those  before  were  affrighted. 
Lo  !  such  are  the  homes  of  the  wicked. 

This  their  place  that  know  not  God  (xviii.  4ff.). 

But  warning  and  exhortation  are  equally  in  vain. 
Job  now  moves  on  another  spiritual  plane  from 
his  friends.  He  may  at  times  turn  to  them,  like 
a  hunted  creature,  in  piteous  appeal  for  sympathy 
(xix.  2if.).  Or,  smarting  under  his  wounds,  he 
may  strike  back,  in  savage  fury,  scorning  their 
'  miserable  comforts  '  (xvi.  2),  or  traversing  their 
whole  airy  scheme  of  life  (ch.  xxi.).  But  his  mind 
is  increasingly  pre-occupied  with  God  Himself. 
His  friends  treat  him  and  his  dead  children  as 
signal  examples  of  sinners  brought  to  judgment. 
But  God  knows  he  is  innocent. 

Even  now  in  heaven  is  my  Witness, 

And  my  Voucher  is  there  on  high  (xvi.  19). 

And  with  hot  tears  in  his  eyes  he  implores  God  to 
have  pity  upon  him,  and  plead  his  cause  with  Him- 
self, seeing  that  Job  cannot  yet  approach  His 
presence,  and  thus  vindicate  his  innocence. 

My  friends  scorn  their  friend,^ 

But  to  God  mine  eye  flows  out. 
That  He  plead  a  man's  cause  with  God, 

And  take  man's  part  'gainst  his  Friend;  * 

1  The  stichos  is  evidently  mutilated  in  the  Hebrew ;  but  it 
seems  better  simply  to  expand  the  reading  as  above  than  to  alter 
the  text  fundamentally. 

«  We  must  here  follow  the  minority  of  MSS.  which  read 


240  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

For  a  few  short  years  will  pass, 

And  I  go  the  way  whence  I  shall  not  return  (xvi.  20ff.). 

Or  if  God  must  delay  his  vindication  till  the  distant 
future,  when  he  is  there  no  more  to  witness  it,  let 
Him  only  *  deposit  a  pledge  with  Himself,'  for  no 
man  can  '  strike  hands  '  with  God,  and  Job  will 
die  in  peace,  assured  that  the  victory  will  be  his 
(xvii.  3ff.). 

This  strange  thought  of  God  as  man's  Witness, 
Advocate,  and  Surety  against  Himself  bears  Job 
up  on  one  of  the  loftiest  flights  of  spirit  in  the  Old 
Testament.  In  his  first  sense  of  desolation  he  had 
longed  for  death  as  his  only  release  from  misery. 
Again  and  again  he  returns,  fascinated,  to  the 
thought. 

O  that  I  had  my  request. 

That  God  would  grant  me  my  wish  ! 
That  God  would  be  pleased  to  crush  me. 

To  let  loose  His  hand,  and  destroy  me  ! 
Lo  !  this  ^  would  be  my  comfort  ; 

And  I'd  glory  in  ruthless  pain  (vi.  8fiE.). 

But  as  he  gazes  into  the  misty  depths  of  Sheol,  the 
horror  of  death  seizes  him.  The  place  of  the  dead 
is 

a  land  of  darkness  and  murk, 
A  land  of  thick  darkness  and  chaos, 

Where  the  light  itself  is  like  pitch  '  (x.  22). 

mX"P3-1,  'between  man  and  his  Friend,'  the  parallelism  identi 
lying  the  Friend  with  God. 

1  For  "WO  read  nXT,  with  a  few  MSS.  and  the  Targum. 

•  The  last  line  is  overladen,  but  niO^V  '?5X  IDS  is  evidently, 
mere  dittography. 


The  Spiritual  Drama  of  Job     241 

It  is  a  land,  too,  whence  there  is  no  return. 
Therefore  in  Sheol  Job  can  no  longer  hope  to  see 
the  vindication  of  his  rights,  but  must  go  down  to 
posterity  as  a  godless  man.  The  thought  is  intoler- 
able, and  he  revolts  against  it.  The  first  gleam  of 
a  hope  beyond  breaks  from  ch.  xiv. — a  passage  of 
almost  midnight  gloom.  Job  is  mourning  over  man's 
brief  and  troublous  life  and  swift,  untimely  end. 
There  is  hope  of  the  tree,  if  it  be  cut  down,  that  it 
will  sprout  again.  Its  root  may  be  old  and  decayed, 
and  its  stock  cut  down  to  the  ground ;  yet  at  the 
scent  of  water  it  will  bud,  and  put  forth  boughs 
like  a  fresh,  young  plant. 

But  man  dieth,  and  is  laid  in  the  dust  ; 

He  yieldeth  his  breath,  and  is  gone} 
As  the  waters  fail  from  the  sea, 

And  the  river  dries  up  and  is  vanished, 
Till  the  heavens  be  no  more,  he  shall  not  awake. 

Nor  be  roused  out  of  his  sleep'  {vv.  loff.). 

But  the  hope  of  the  tree  suggests  to  the  despairing 
soul  a  possible  hope  for  man  as  well.  '  If  man  too 
may  die  and  live  again  ! '  {v.  14)  .^     God  may  per- 

*  I  have  here  followed  the  Versions  in  reading  |"'X1. 

•  The  opening  stichos  oi  v.  12  is  evidently  misplaced.  Diihm 
has  ingeniously  suggested  its  transposition  to  v.  19,  the  closing 
stichos  of  which  is  missing.  This  suggestion  is  followed  in  the 
translation  above. 

'  This  reflection  is  surely  not  '  a  momentary  interruption  of 
doubt'  (Davidson),  but  the  theoretical  principle  of  the  hope 
expressed  in  the  following  verse.     If  only  Job  could  be  sure  tliat 

x6 


2^2  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

chance  bring  him  down  to  Sheol,  to  hide  him  there 
till  His  wrath  is  past,  and  then  '  appoint  him  a  set 
time  and  remember  him.'  If  he  could  only  enter- 
tain this  hope,  he  should  wait  patiently,  and  endure 
the  cruellest  pains,  all  the  days  of  his  warfare,  till 
his  release  came ;  and  when  at  last  God  called,  he 
would  answer  joyfully,  and  forget  the  misery  of 
the  past  in  the  bliss  of  his  new  life  with  God  {vv. 
I4f.).  It  is  a  hope,  however,  too  high  for  him  to 
grasp  ;  and  he  is  plunged  into  deeper  darkness 
than  before. 

The  waters  wear  the  stones. 

The  floods  wash  off  the  dust  ; 
So  Thou  destroyest  man's  hope — 

He  sleepeth,  and  riseth  no  more. 
Thou  prevailest  against  him  for  ever  ; 

Thou  changest  his  face,  and  dost  banish  him  {vv.  igf.). 

And  the  lot  of  the  dead  man  in  Sheol  is  utterly 
miserable.  He  knows  nothing  more  of  what  passes 
in  this  upper  sphere.  He  cannot  follow  the  fortunes 
even  of  his  dearest  ones. 

His  sons  are  honoured,  but  he  knoweth  it  not  ; 

They  are  brought  low,  but  he  marketh  it  not  {v.  21). 

Nor  is  the  sleep  of  the  dead  unbroken  rest.  He 
sleeps — '  perchance  to  dream  !  '  Though  he  knows 
nothing  of  his  friends  on  earth, 

man  died  and  rose  again,  he  would  bear  all  things  bravely,  ex- 
pecting the  time  of  his  release. 


The  Spiritual  Drama  of  Job     243 

Yet  his  own  flesh  hath  pain. 
And  his  own  soul  mourneth  {v.  22). 

But  again  Job  rises  on  the  wings  of  faith  and 
hope.  The  main  part  of  ch.  xix,  is  perhaps  the 
most  pitiful  passage  in  the  whole  poem.  Bildad 
has  just  drawn  his  terrible  picture  of  the  wicked 
man's  fate.  And  the  sorely  wounded  sufferer 
seeks  to  move  his  friends  to  pity  by  the  spectacle 
of  all  his  accumulated  woes  :  his  glory  stripped 
away,  his  hope  plucked  up  by  the  root,  his  path 
enshrouded  in  darkness,  his  dearest  friends  estranged 
from  him,  and  no  one  to  hear  his  cry  and  bring 
him  redress,  for  it  is  God  that  hath  '  subverted  his 
rights '  {vv.  6ff.).  But  the  friends  are  cold  and 
pitiless  as  God  Himself  {v.  22).  In  his  despair  Job 
turns  for  his  vindication  to  posterity.  If  only  he 
could  write  his  defence  in  a  book,  or  engrave  it 
on  the  rock  with  iron  stylus  and  beaten  lead, 
future  generations  would  read  it,  and  judge  justly, 
and  attest  his  righteousness  {vv.  2^i.).  But  the 
record  on  the  rocks  is  impossible.  Thus  he  turns 
once  more  to  his  Witness  in  heaven. 

But  I  know  that  my  Goel  liveth. 

And  as  After  man  on  my  dust 
He  will  stand  as  Witness  before  me. 

And  lift  up  His  voice  in  my  cause. 

Then  God  shall  I  see  in  spirit. 
Mine  own  eyes  mil  look  on  His  ^ace ; 


244  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

No  more  estranged  shall  I  see  Him. 
My  reins  are  consumed  at  the  thought  *  [vv.  25fE.). 

In  this  great  expression  of  faith  the  action  of  the 
drama  reaches  its  height.  It  is  not,  indeed,  the 
hope  of  a  blessed  immortality  with  God  that  floats 
before  Job's  vision.  But  he  does  cherish  the  confi- 
dence that  he  will  rise  from  Sheol,  and  see  God  in 
person,  if  it  be  only  for  a  moment,  on  the  day  when 
He  stands  upon  the  dust  to  vindicate  his  cause. 
And  though  Job  has  not  followed  the  gleam  to 
fuller  light — the  vision  is  so  dazzling  that  he  reels, 
and  falls  back  exhausted — he  points  other  harassed 
saints  along  the  pathway  of  life  eternal,  and  helps 
them  to  see  that   '  the  sufferings  of  this  present 


*  These  verses  present  many  difficulties  in  detail,  and  the  best 
translation  can  only  be  approximate.  From  the  context,  how- 
ever, three  things  seem  clear — (i)  Job  expects  no  other  end 
of  his  miseries  than  speedy  death  ;  (2)  he  looks  to  God  to  be 
his  Goel,  the  champion  of  his  cause  after  death  ;  and  (3)  he 
cherishes  the  hope  that  he  will  rise  from  Sheol  to  see  the  vindica- 
tion of  his  rights.  Thus  Duhm  is  probably  correct  in  finding 
ny,  '  my  Witness,'  underlying  ^"liy,'  my  skin.'  He  has  observed, 
too,  that  for  the  meaningless  nNt"-"lBj?J  LXX  suggests  a  '  lift- 
ing up '  of  something.  Duhm  supplies  '  His  mark,'  that  is,  the 
itOcognized  sign  that  God  has  accomplished  the  obligations  of  the 
Goel.  But  it  seems  more  in  harmony  with  Job's  desire  to  render 
'  lift  up  His  voice ' — ^to  testify  to  his  innocence.  It  is  with  reluct- 
ance I  have  left  "'"ib'SP-l.  'apart  from  my  flesh,' translated  as  'in 
spirit.'  So  pure  a  thought  of  man's  future  existence  seems  quite 
in  advance  even  of  Job's  daring  hopes.  Buhl's  suggestion,  ♦"inb'DI, 
'  my  Voucher  '  (cf.  xvi.  19),  is  attractive.  But  no  certainty  can 
be  reached  on  the  point, 


The  Spiritual  Drama  of  Job     245 

time  are  not  worthy  to  be  compared  with  the  glory 
that  shall  be  revealed  in  us.' 

But  for  himself,  too,  a  real  and  decisive  change 
is  effected.  He  has  not  yet  reached  peace  with 
God.  Still  less  has  he  solved  the  mysteries  of 
Providence.  The  most  sustained  impeachment  of 
God's  ways  is  found,  indeed,  in  these  later  chapters 
(xxi.  7ff.).  But  the  victory  he  has  won  over  Sheol 
gives  him  new  courage  to  press  his  suit  against  the 
Almighty.  For  Job  seeks  not  merely  the  vindication 
of  his  rights,  but  the  restoration  of  personal  friend- 
ship with  God  Himself.  And  he  is  now  assured 
that  the  God  he  has  learned  to  trust  with  his  cause 
will  not  for  ever  elude  his  search.  Thus  in  the  third 
Cycle  of  speeches  he  moves  still  further  from  his 
friends.  His  only  concern  is  where  to  find  his  God, 
and  how  to  reach  His  judgment-seat.  The  un- 
worthy charges  of  Eliphaz  (ch.  xxii.)  thus  fall  on 
heedless  ears.  If  his  friends  continue  to  misjudge 
him,  the  heavenly  Vindicator  will  listen  the  more 
attentively  to  his  plea  (xxiii.  6).  And,  as  He 
knoweth  all  his  way  of  life,  whatever  test  He  may 
apply,  he  shall  come  forth  from  the  trial  as  gold 
(xxiii.  lo).  He  may  still  be  troubled  at  heart  when 
he  thinks  of  the  afflictions  the  Almighty  has  laid 
on  him  (xxiii.  I5ff.).  But  no  such  threatenings 
of  the  Divine  holiness  and  wrath  as  Bildad  and 
Zophar  still  urge  (xxv.  iff. ;  xxvii.  7£f.)  can  induce 


246  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

him  to  put  away  his  integrity  from  him.  As  long 
as  he  lives  he  will  hold  fast  his  righteousness ;  for 
his  conscience  has  nothing  against  him. 

God  forbid  I  should  justify  you  I 

Till  I  die  will  I  yield  not  mine  innocence. 

My  right  I  hold  fast,  and  will  not  let  it  go  ; 

My  heart  hath  no  shame  for  my  days  (xxvii.  jf.). 

The  full  statement  of  Job's  case  is  finally  made 
in  the  great  chapters  already  referred  to  as  his 
Apologia  'pro  Vita  Sua  :  ch.  xxix.,  in  which  he 
draws  that  most  glorious  picture  of  a  good  man 
happy  and  honoured  ;  ch.  xxx.,  in  which  he  depicts 
the  intolerable  miseries  of  his  present  state  ;  and 
ch.  xxxi.,  a  passage  that  touches  the  high-water 
mark  of  Old  Testament  morality,  in  which  he  sets 
forth  his  claim  of  righteousness.  He  has  done 
nothing,  he  asserts,  to  merit  these  calamities.  For 
he  has  not  merely  kept  his  hands  clean  from  gross 
sins,  but  he  has  never  even  admitted  the  thought 
of  such  things  into  his  heart.  He  has  nowhere 
walked  with  vanity,  nor  let  his  foot  hasten  after 
deceit ;  at  no  time  has  he  allowed  himself  to  be 
seduced  into  idolatry,  or  made  gold  his  confidence. 
No  cruelty  or  inhumanity  can  be  laid  to  his  charge. 
From  his  fields  there  rise  no  cries  of  those  that  are 
pressed  to  work  without  money,  or  whose  lives 
are  involved  in  hardship  and  peril.  In  the  market- 
place and  the  courts  he  has  acted  towards  all  men 


The  Spiritual  Drama  of  Job     247 

with  perfect  honour  and  uprightness.  He  has  con- 
sistently respected  the  cause  of  the  poor,  and  even 
of  his  servants,  when  they  contended  with  him 
at  -.he  gates,  regarding  all  men  alike  as  brethren 
whcm  the  one  God  fashioned  in  the  womb  with 
himself.  He  has  been  the  steadfast  friend  of  the 
needy,  the  friendless  and  the  stranger,  for  whom 
his  door  and  hand  were  ever  open.  While  the 
light  of  God  still  shone  within  his  tent,  the  stranger 
did  not  lodge  in  the  street,  nor  had  the  wayfarer 
to  search  for  a  shelter.  The  loins  of  the  needy 
blessed  him,  for  they  were  warmed  with  the  fleece 
of  his  sheep.  The  fatherless  and  the  widow  also 
blessed  him  ;  for  he  upheld  their  rights,  and  shared 
with  them  his  morsel.  Even  his  enemies  were  not 
beyond  the  range  of  his  sympathies.  For  he  never 
rejoiced  at  the  troubles  that  befell  them,  nor  allowed 
his  heart  to  be  lifted  up  with  pride  when  evil  found 
them  out.  Nor  did  he  seek  to  hide  any  secret  sin 
in  his  bosom,  for  fear  of  the  vengeance  of  the  multi- 
tude, or  the  open  contempt  of  his  clansmen.  This, 
he  triumphantly  declares,  is  his  case,  duly  drawn 
up,  and  attested  by  oath.  And  here  he  affixes  his 
tau — ^his  cross  or  sign-manual.  Let  his  Antagonist 
now  present  his  indictment  !  Let  him  bring  to- 
gether the  full  catalogue  of  his  transgressions  I 
Then  Job  will  carry  it  on  his  shoulder,  and  even 
twine  it  as  achaplet  around  his  forehead — so  radiantly 


248  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

conscious  is  he  of  his  innocence.  And  in  this  sub- 
lime confidence  he  draws  near  as  a  prince  to  the 
Divine  presence  (xxxi.  35ff.)^ 

In  fine  dramatic  harmony  with  Job's  stupendous 
confidence,  the  storm-clouds  gather,  the  thunder 
roars  and  the  lightnings  flash,  and  Jahweh  Himself 
swoops  down  on  the  whirlwind  to  answer  His  ser- 
vant's challenge.  In  vision  after  vision  He  unrolls 
before  him  the  whole  panorama  of  creation  :  the 
heavens  and  the  earth,  and  the  place  of  the  dead, 
the  home  of  light  and  darkness,  the  treasuries  of 
the  snow  and  hail,  the  path  of  the  lightning,  the 
mists  and  floods  that  refresh  even  the  desert  places 
and  the  lands  where  no  man  is,  the  constellations 
in  their  ordered  march,  and  the  living  creatures  in 
their  native  freedom.  Then  with  magnificent  irony 
He  invites  him  to  ascend  the  throne,  and  himself 
assume  the  government  of  the  Universe. 

xxxviii.     2  Who  is  this  thai  darkeneth  counsel 
By  words  without  knowledge  ? 

3  Gird  up  now  thy  loins  like  a  man — 

I  will  ask  thee,  and  thou  shall  inform  me. 

4  Where  wert  ihou  when  I  founded  the  earth  ? 

Declare,  if  thou  knowest  at  all  ? 

5  Who  set  its  measures,  thou  that  knowest  I 

Or  who  stretched  the  line  thereon  ? 


^  It  has  been  shown  above  (p.  212)  that  Job's  Apologia  ought 
really  to  end  with  this  majestic  approach  to  God. 


The  Spiritual  Drama  of  Job     249 

6  On  what  were  its  columns  sunk. 

Or  who  laid  the  corner-stone — 

7  When  the  morning  stars  sang  together. 

And  the  sons  of  God  shouted  for  joy  ; 

8  When  the  sea  was  poured  out  in  birth,^ 

When  forth  from  the  womb  it  burst, 

9  And  I  made  the  cloud  its  garment, 

A  nd  thick  darkness  its  swaddling-band  ; 

[o  When  I  fixed  a  limit  thereto, 

And  placed  on  it  doors  and  bar, 

11  And  said,  '  Thus  far,  but  no  further  ; 

Here  shall  thy  proud  waves  rest ! ' 

12  Hast  thou  ever  commanded  the  morning, 

Or  shown  the  dayspring  its  place, 

13  To  lay  hold  of  the  skirts  of  the  earth, 

And  change  it  as  clay  'neath  the  seal?  * 

19  Where  is  the  way  to  light's  dwelling. 

And  the  darkness — where  is  its  place, 

20  That  thou  lead  it  back  to  its  borders. 

And  show  it  the  path  to  its  home  ?   ' 

16  Hast  thou  gone  to  the  springs  of  the  sea, 
Or  walked  in  the  depths  of  the  ocean  ? 


1  The  reference  to  '  doors  '  in  d.  8  is  certainly  premature. 
The  context  demands  rather  a  parallel  to  the  '  bursting  from  the 
womb  '  in  the  second  stichos.  Beer  has  rightly  found  in  Cn^Ta 
a  transposition  of  letters  for  ni?3,  followed  by  the  dittography 
W.  As  a  verb  he  suggests  "iSp,  shut  up  ;  but  JTlPIl  "^D.*l>  ^^'^ 
was  poured  out  in  birth,  would  be  both  an  easier  and  a  more 
natural  reading. 

•  I  have  followed  Duhm,  etc.,  in  omitting  the  pointless  stanza 
regarding  the  scattering  of  the  wicked. 

2  As  vv.  igi.  clearly  continue  the  thought  of  vv.  I2f.,  and  in 
their  present  position  in  the  Hebrew  almost  harshly  intervene 
between  vv.  i8  and  21,  I  have  followed  Duhm  in  transplacing 
them. 


250  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

17  Have  the  gates  of  death  been  shoum  thee; 

Hast  thou  seen  the  warders  of  darkness  ? 

18  Hast  thou  ranged  o'er  the  breadth  of  the  earth  ? 

Tell,  then,  if  thou  knowest,  its  greatness  ! 

21  And  thou  knowest,  for  then  wast  thou  born. 

And  the  years  of  thy  life  are  so  many  I 

22  Hast  thou  gone  to  the  treasuries  of  snow. 

Or  seen  the  store-chambers  of  hail, 

23  That  I've  kept  for  the  time  of  trouble. 

For  the  day  of  battle  and  conflict  ? 

24  By  what  way  parted  the  vapours. 

Or  scattered  the  showers  o'er  the  earth  ? 

25  Who  cleft  for  the  floods  a  channel. 

And  a  way  for  the  flash  of  the  thunders, — 

26  To  give  rain  on  the  desolate  land. 

On  the  desert  where  no  man  dwells, 

27  To  slake  the  waste  and  the  wilderness. 

That  the  thirsty  land  may  yield  verdure  ? 

29  Out  of  whose  womb  issued  the  ice  ? 

Who  begat  the  hoar  frost  of  heaven,^ 

30  That  like  stone  are  the  waters  congealed. 

The  face  of  the  deep  is  frozen  ? 

31  Dost  thou  link  the  chain  of  the  Pleiades, 

Or  loose  the  bonds  of  Orion  ? 

32  Dost  thou  lead  out  the  Mazzaroth  in  their  season. 

Or  guide  the  Bear  with  her  young  ones  ? 

33  Hast  thou  laid  down  the  laws  of  heaven. 

Or  established  its  power  o'er  the  earth  ? 

34  Dost  thou  lift  up  thy  voice  to  the  clouds. 

That  the  flood  of  waters  may  answer  thee  ? 

35  Dost  thou  send  forth  the  lightnings  on  journeys. 

And  they  say  to  thee,  '  Here  we  are  I '  ? 

36  Who  inspired  the  clouds  with  wisdom. 

Or  endowed  their  dark  masses  with  insight  ? 

*  The  prosaic  v.  28  is  almost  certainly  a  gloss  on  this  stichos. 


The  Spiritual  Drama  of  Job    251 

37  Who  spreads  out  the  clouds  in  wisdom  ? 

Who  pours  forth  the  bottles  of  heaven, 

38  When  the  dust  runs  into  a  mould. 

And  the  clods  cleave  fast  together  ? 

39  Dost  thou  hunt  the  prey  for  the  lioness. 

Or  sate  the  needs  of  her  young  ones. 

40  When  they  couch  together  in  lairs. 

And  lie  in  wait  in  the  thicket? 

41  Who  provideth  their  food  at  even-tide,^ 

When  their  young  ones  cry  unto  God, 
When  they  roar  in  distress  for  hunger,* 
And  wander  in  search  of  prey  ? 

xix.     I  Hast  thou  taught  the  wild-goats  their  season. 
Or  watched  the  throes  of  the  hinds  ? 

2  Dost  thou  count  the  months  they  fulfil. 

Or  appoint  the  time  of  their  calving  ? 

3  They  bow,  they  open  the  womb  ; 

They  cast  forth  their  labour-pangs. 

4  Their  young  ones  grow  strong,  they  wax  great  in  the 

field  ; 
They  go  forth,  and  return  no  more. 

5  Who  sent  out  the  wild  ass  free. 

Or  loosed  the  bonds  of  the  onager, 

6  Whose  home  I  have  made  the  desert, 

And  the  salt  land  his  lodging-place  ? 

7  He  scorneth  the  din  of  the  city  ; 

The  shouts  of  the  driver  he  hears  not. 

8  He  scoureth  the  hills  for  his  pasture  ; 

After  every  green  thing  he  searcheth. 


*  As  the  picture  of  the  lions  is  manifestly  continued  through 
this  stanza,  it  seems  necessary  to  read  2'\V?,  at  evening,  foT2'}}}7, 
to  the  raven  (cf.  Wright,  Duhm,  etc.). 

*  A  line  is  here  wanting  in  the  Hebrew.  The  translation  may 
represent  something  like  the  original  text. 


252  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

9  Will  the  wild-ox  be  willing  to  serve  thee  ; 
Will  he  spend  the  night  in  thy  crib  ? 

10  Wilt  thou  bind  the  cord  on  his  neck, 

A  nd  he  plough  the  furrows  behind  thee  ? 

11  Wilt  thou  trust  him — his  strength  is  so  great— 

And  leave  him  to  do  thy  labour? 

12  Hast  thou  faith  he  will  ever  return, 

A  nd  bring  thy  seed  to  the  threshing-floor  ?  * 

19  Hast  thou  given  the  horse  his  might. 

And  clothed  his  neck  with  the  mane  ? 

20  Hast  thou  made  him  to  leap  as  a  locust. 

With  the  dread  of  his  terrible  snorting  ? 

21  He  paws  in  the  valley,  and  neighs  ; 

In  his  might  he  goes  forth  to  the  fray. 

22  He  mocketh  at  death,  and  fears  not. 

And  turneth  not  back  from  the  sword. 

23  The  quiver  rattleth  upon  him, 

The  flashing  lance,  and  the  javelin. 

24  In  his  raging  rush  he  swallows  the  ground. 

And  he  swerves  not  to  right  or  left.^ 

25  He  starts  at  the  sound  of  the  trumpet  ; 

At  the  blast  he  sayeth,  'Aha!' 
From  afar  he  scenteth  the  battle. 

The  hurrahs,  and  the  shouts  of  the  captains. 

26  Doth  the  hawk  soar  aloft  by  thy  wisdom, 

And  spread  her  wings  to  the  South  ? 

27  At  thy  word  doth  she  set  her  nest  high, 

28  And  lodge  on  the  tooth  of  the  rock  ?  ' 

*  The  description  of  the  ostrich  {vv.  13-18)  is  quite  unlike  the 
other  pictures,  and  is  significantly  omitted  from  the  original  LXX. 
In  common  with  most  modern  editors,  I  have  treated  the  section 
as  a  later  element. 

*  On  the  text  here  followed,  of.  Beer  (in  Biblia  Hebraica). 
For  the  sake  of  the  connexion  the  verb  '  starts  '  has  been  inserted. 

'  By  the  omission  of  a  few  irrelevant  details,  the  whole  passage 


rhe  Spiritual  Drama  of  Job     253 

29  From  thence  she  spieth  her  prey. 

Her  eyes  behold  it  afar. 

30  Her  young  ones  suck  up  the  blood  ; 

And  where  slain  are,  there  is  she. 

x)  2  Will  the  caviller  then  contend  with  the  Almighty? 

He  that  censureth  God — let  him  answer  ! 

8  Wilt  thou  discredit  my  judgment, 

Making  me  wrong,  that  thou  mayest  be  right  ? 

9  Hast  thou  an  arm  like  God  ? 

Canst  thou  thunder  with  voice  like  His  ? 

10  Put  on  now  thy  glory  and  majesty  ; 

In  pomp  and  splendour  away  thee ! 

11  Then  pour  out  the  floods  of  thine  anger, 

And  all  that  is  proud  bring  thou  low  ! 

12  All  that  is  lofty  abase, 

And  tread  down  the  wicked  beneath  thee  I 

13  Hide  them  together  in  dust  ; 

Their  faces  bind  up  in  the  darkness  ! 

14  Then  will  I  also  acknowledge 

That  thy  right  hand  winneth  thee  victory. 

Job  had  asked  of  God  that  He  lay  aside  the  terrors 
of  His  majesty,  and  meet  him  as  Man  with  His 
friend.  God  has  not  Hstened  to  this  prayer.  For, 
to  the  reverent  thought  of  the  poet,  God  could  not 
be  God  without  His  glory.  But  amid  the  thunder 
and  lightning  with  which  the  Almighty  is  encircled, 
there  may  be  caught  the  '  still,  small  voice  '  of  the 
friendly  God.  And  Job  hears  it,  and  is  saved. 
Thus  the  drama  closes  in  the  peace  of  God,  which 
the  world  can  neither  give  nor  take  away. 

becomes  an  integral  part  of  the  picture  of  the  hawk  (cf.  Bicke]], 
Puhm,  etc.). 


2  54  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

xl.  4  Behold,  I  am  small ;  and  what  can  I  answer  Thee  ? 

My  hand  I  lay  on  my  mouth. 
5  Once  have  I  spoken,  but  will  not  repeat  it — 
Yea,  twice,  but  will  add  no  more. 

xlii.  2  /  know  that  Thou  art  all  powerful, 

And  that  nought  is  too  high  for  Thee. 
36  /  spoke  of  things  that  I  knew  not. 

Things  all  too  wonderful — beyond  my  wisdonu 

5  By  the  hearing  of  the  ear  had  I  heard  of  Thee  ; 

But  now  mine  eye  doth  see  Thee. 

6  Wherefore  I  remain  in  silence. 

And  repent  in  dust  and  ashes.^ 

*  On  the  arrangement  of  the  verses,  cf.  supra,  p.  3i6« 


CHAPTER   XV 

The  Book  of    Proverbs 

We  have  found  song  to  be  a  natural  and  spontaneous 
expression  of  the  human  spirit,  the  origins  of  which 
must  be  sought  on  the  misty  mountain-tops  of 
antiquity.  But  the  simplest  mental  life  is  no  mere 
bundle  of  feelings.  It  consists  equally  of  observa- 
tion and  judgment.  And  as  men  have  given  uni- 
versal voice  to  their  feelings  in  song,  they  embody 
their  judgments  also  in  those  terse,  sententious 
sayings  we  call  proverbs.  Struck  out  in  some  hour 
of  quiet  meditation  on  life  and  its  problems,  or 
amid  the  strife  of  tongues  around  the  camp-fires 
or  by  the  gates,  and  constantly  polished  by  the 
attrition  of  daily  use,  these  sayings  are  real  crystalli- 
zations of  the  practical  wisdom  of  peoples.  The 
individual  proverb  cannot  indeed  reflect  the  whole 
universe  of  truth.  But  to  maintain  its  place  in 
tradition,  it  must  be  a  genuine  mirror  of  experience, 
holding  forth  one  aspect  of  life  in  brief,  pointed, 
memorable  language,  that  will  appeal  to  the  under- 
standing even  of  the  simplest  of  the  people. 

In  its  original  impulse,  therefore,  the  proverb  has 

266 


256  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

no  kinship  with  poetry.  It  wholly  lacks  the  passion 
which  is  the  heart's  blood  of  the  poet.  Yet,  to 
win  its  way  into  the  imagination,  the  proverb  is 
compelled  to  use  the  simple,  sensuous  language  of 
poetry.  Abstractions  are  alien  to  the  spirit  of 
proverbs.  Instead  of  inculcating  general  principles 
of  timely  thrift  and  prudence,  for  example,  they 
urge  concrete  examples,  '  A  stitch  in  time  saves 
nine,'  or  '  Make  hay  while  the  sun  shines.'  Thus 
proverbs  are  almost  as  rich  as  poetry  in  figurative 
language.  And  often  the  proverb  passes  the 
borderland,  and  assumes  the  rhythmical  form, 
the  balance  of  lines,  and  even  the  rhyme  of  poetry. 
In  the  proverbial  treasure-store  of  all  nations  are 
found  numerous  examples  of  such  prudential 
maxims  that  can  be  distinguished  from  pure  poetry 
only  by  the  slower  pulse  of  feeling. 

The  near  kinsmen  of  Israel  have  been  justly  celeb- 
rated for  the  wealth  and  brilliance  of  their  proverbs. 
In  the  Old  Testament  the  wisdom  of  the  Bedouin 
is  alone  held  worthy  to  be  matched  with  Solomon's 
(i  Kings  iv.  30),  while  Edom  is  honoured  as  the 
true  homeland  of  wisdom  (Jer.  xlix.  7  ;  Obad.  8). 
The  extant  literature  of  Arabia  is  singularly  rich 
in  proverbial  lore.  And  so  fertile  a  mother  of 
wisdom  is  the  keen,  shrewd  Semitic  mind  that  to 
the  present  day,  when  more  civilized  nations  have 
lost  the  art  of  coining  proverbs,  the  common  speech 


The   Book  of  Proverbs      257 

of  the  Bedouin  sparkles  with  gems  of  polished  wit, 
and  incisive  criticisms  of  life  and  manners.  The 
people  of  Israel  enjoyed  a  full  portion  of  the  racial 
inheritance.  From  the  long  distant  past  there 
flowed  among  them  a  perennial  stream  of  pregnant 
aphorisms,  continually  enriched  by  the  sententious 
contributions  of  wise  men  like  Solomon,  until  it 
reached  the  dimensions  of  a  broad  flood,  from  which 
our  Book  of  Proverbs  has  been  mainly  drawn. 

The  generic  name  for  proverb  in  Hebrew — mdshdl 
— implies  likeness  or  comparison.  The  typical  pro- 
verb is  allied,  therefore,  on  the  one  side  to  the 
riddle,  and  on  the  other  to  the  parable.  The  riddle 
may  be  described  as  a  veiled  proverb,  and  the 
proverb  as  an  open  riddle.  Both  are  really  pointed 
similes  suggested  or  unfolded.  The  story  of  Sam- 
son's wedding-feast  (Judg.  xiv.  I2ff.)  shows  how 
easily  one  form  may  pass  into  the  other.  And  no 
doubt  many  popular  proverbs  owe  their  origin  to 
riddles  put  forth  on  just  such  festive  occasions  as 
this.  The  essence  of  the  parable  is  the  same. 
For  the  point  of  the  parable  lies  equally  in  com- 
parison. '  The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  like  unto  a 
man  that  sowed  good  seed  in  his  field,'  etc.  Thus 
the  Hebrews  describe  both  proverb  and  parable  by 
the  common  term  mdshdl.  The  parable  is  simply 
an  elaborated  proverb  ;  and  the  proverb  on  its  part 
is  a  real  parable  in  germ.    The  Book  of  Proverbs 

17 


258  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

yields  on  every  page  material  for  the  fully  developed 
parable.  And  in  certain  sections  of  the  Book — 
for  example,  the  portraits  of  the  sluggard  (xxiv. 
3off.) — the  transition  is  clearly  to  be  traced. 

The  quintessence  of  the  mdshal  is  preserved  in  the 
old  proverb  of  Gen.  x.  9 — '  Like  Nimrod  a  mighty 
hunter  before  Jahweh  ' — ^the  rudimentary  structure 
of  which  may  be  closely  paralleled  in  many  Bedouin 
sayings  of  both  ancient  and  modern  times.  An 
approach  to  the  poetical  distichs  of  the  classical 
proverb  is  found  in  the  popular  saying  quoted  by 
Ezek.  xvi.  44 — '  as  the  mother,  the  daughter  ' — 
while  from  the  primitive  simile  there  emerges  also 
such  clean-cut  ethical  apophthegms,  or  terse  illustra- 
tions of  general  principles,  as  the  '  proverb  of  the 
ancients  '  cited  in  i  Sam.  xxiv.  14 — '  out  of  the 
wicked  cometh  forth  wickedness  ' — or  the  grave 
moral  maxim  urged  against  the  prophets'  words  of 
cheer  and  counsel  (Jer.  xxxi.  29  ;  Ezek.  xviii.  2)  :— 

The  fathers  have  eaten  sour  grapes, 

And  the  children's  teeth  are  set  on  edge. 

But  comparison  may  be  drawn  by  contrast  as  well.* 
Thus  the  simile  leads  by  another  path  to  the 
antithetic  type  of  proverb  so  widely  in  vogue  during 
the  more  literary  age.  Under  this  head  may  be 
subsumed  the  simple  monostich  of  i  Sam.  x.  12, 

*  '  Contrar  thingis  evermair 

Discoverings  of  the  tother  are.' — Barbour's  Bruce 


The  Book  ot  Proverbs      259 

repeated  in  xix.  24,  '  Is  Saul  also  among  the  pro- 
phets ?  ' — the  point  of  which  lies  in  the  shock  of 
pained  surprise  with  which  Saul's  friends  saw  so 
distinguished,  sane,  and  prosperous  a  young  man 
give  way  to  prophetic  frenzy.  But  the  full  force 
of  the  antithetic  proverb  was  reached  only  when 
it  assumed  the  couplet  form.  A  certain  stage  in 
this  development  is  marked  by  the  barbed  arrow 
shot  by  Ahab  : — 

Let  him  not  boast  that  girdeth  on  [his  armour) 
As  he  that  putteth  off  (i   Kings  xx.  ii). 

A  further  step  in  advance  may  be  noted  in  that 
other  pathetic  proverb  quoted  by  Ezekiel  from  the 
lips  of  his  contemporaries  : — 

The  days  drag  on  ; 

Yet  the  vision  faileth  (Ezek.  xii.  22). 

But  only  by  sedulous  cultivation  in  the  school  of 
'  the  wise  '  did  this  latter  type  acquire  the  perfect 
balance  of  thought  and  finely  polished  mould  that 
we  associate  with  the  Proverbs  of  the  Bible. 

The  father  of  Hebrew  wisdom  is  Solomon.  In 
Israelite  tradition  he  is  accredited  with  no  fewer 
than  five  thousand  proverbs.  His  name  thus 
became  a  symbol  for  wisdom  ;  while  proverbs  of  a 
certain  literary  stamp  were  technically  known  as 
'  proverbs  of  Solomon.'  His  wisdom  apparently 
consisted  in  refinements  of  the  more  popular  proverb 


2  6o  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

'-acute  reflections  on  life  and  conduct,  passing 
perhaps,  like  the  later  wisdom  of  Ahikar,  into  moral 
fables  or  apologues,  lit  up  by  striking  illustrations 
from  many  fields  of  Nature  (i  Kings  iv.  32f.).  The 
wisdom  of  the  classical  period  was  more  self-con- 
scious in  its  aims  and  methods.  On  the  pages  of 
the  greater  prophets  '  the  wise  '  appear  as  a  separate 
guild  of  spiritual  advisers,  whose  '  counsel '  ranked 
in  influence  with  the  '  law  '  of  the  priests  and  the 
'  word  '  of  the  prophets  (Isa.  xxix.  14 ;  Jer.  xviii. 
18  ;  etc.).  In  the  post-exilic  age  the  '  wise  men  ' 
virtually  replaced  the  prophets  as  moral  guides  and 
teachers.  Thus  the  proverbs  which  formed  one 
part  of  their  equipment  are  cast  in  a  distinctively 
ethical  mould,  for  instruction  in  '  righteousness, 
judgment,  and  uprightness  *  (Prov.  i.  3).  But  the 
wise  men  of  Israel  versed  themselves  not  in  proverbs 
alone.  They  played  the  part  of  moral  preachers 
as  well.  Taking  their  stand  in  the  market-place, 
or  at  the  corners  of  bustling  streets,  or  by  the  gates 
where  the  people  congregated,  like  the  majestic 
figure  of  Wisdom  herself,  they  appealed  to  the 
simple  ones  to  embrace  wisdom,  and  to  fools  to  turn 
from  their  folly  and  live  (Prov.  i.  2off.).  Their  text- 
book was  '  the  law  of  the  Most  High,'  to  the  study 
of  which  their  whole  mind  was  given,  and  from 
which  they  drew  the  cardinal  principles  of  life. 
But  the  wise  man  had  likewise  his  personal  revela- 


The   Book  of  Proverbs      261 

tion  of  truth,  as  he  '  prayed  before  the  Most  High, 
and  made  suppHcation  for  his  sins.'  And  other 
wisdom  he  learned  in  the  school  of  experience,  as 
he  wandered  about  the  world,  '  travelling  through 
strange  countries,'  mingling  with  kings  and  princes, 
and  '  testing  the  good  and  evil  among  men  '  (Ben 
Sira,  xxxix.  iff.). 

The  original  type  of  proverb  is  most  faithfully 
preserved  in  the  first  three  chapters  of  the  '  Heze- 
kiah  '  collection  (ch.  xxv.-xxvii.). 

Even  in  outward  form  these  chapters  stand  out 
clear  from  their  context.  The  main  body  of  the 
Book  of  Proverbs  consists  of  antithetic  couplets. 
But  in  this  small  group  the  older  style  of  mashdl 
prevails.  Some  of  these  similes  are  exquisitely 
cut  and  finished,  e.g.  ! — 

As  apples  of  gold  on  baskets  of  chased  silver 

Is  a  word  in  due  season  (xxv.  ii). 
As  silver  overlaying  an  earthen  potsherd 

Are  flattering  words  and  a  wicked  heart  (xxvi.  23). 

Others  are  diamonds  in  the  rough  : — 

A  whip  for  the  horse,  a  bridle  for  the  ass, 
And  a  rod  for  the  back  of  fools  (xxvi.  3), 

The  door  turneth  on  its  hinges, 

And  a  sluggard  on  his  back  (xxvi.  14). 

Though  thou  bray  a  fool  in  a  mortar,^ 
His  folly  will  not  depart  from  him  (xxvii.  22). 

^  The  additional  words  of  the  Mass.  text,  '  with  a  pestle 
among  bruised  corn,'  are  an  evident  gloss,  marring  the  symraetry 
of  the  proverb. 


262  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

But  in  spirit  also  these  proverbs  differ  from  the 
general  tenor  of  the  Book.  For  the  wisdom  here 
inculcated  is  mainly  shrewd  worldly  prudence, 
couched  in  homely  maxims  that  remind  us  of  Hesiod, 
often  with  a  touch  of  real  pathos,  as  in  the  com- 
parison of  a  faithless  friend  in  time  of  trouble  with 
*  a  bad  tooth  and  a  tottering  limb  '  (xxv.  19),  or  a 
man  that  wanders  from  his  home  with  *  a  bird 
wandering  from  its  nest  '  (xxvii.  8),  sometimes  also 
expanding  into  broad  humour,  as  in  the  pictures 
of  the  sluggard  : — 

Saith  the  sluggard,  '  There's  a  roarer  in  the  street 

A  lion  among  the  highways'   (xxvi.  13). 
The  sluggard  burieth  his  hand  in  the  dish  ; 

He  is  too  slothful  to  lift  it  to  his  mouth  again  (xxvi.  15). 

In  these  respects  the  proverbs  bear  a  close  resem- 
blance to  the  popular  wisdom  of  other  nations.  It 
is  significant,  as  Davidson  has  pointed  out,  that 
these  three  chapters  '  comprise  almost  all  the 
proverbs  that  we  still  use,'  e.g.,  '  iron  sharpeneth 
iron,'  '  as  face  answereth  to  face  in  water,'  '  the  dog 
is  returned  to  his  vomit,'  '  thou  shalt  heap  coals  of 
fire  on  his  head,'  and  the  joy  of  '  good  news  from  a 
far  country.'  ^  The  conditions  of  life  reflected  in 
this  section  are  also  relatively  simple.  Various 
grades   of   social   rank   are   recognized.     And   the 

^  A.   B.  Davidson,  art.  Proverbs,  in    the  Ency.  Brit.,  Ninth 
Edition. 


The   Book  of  Proverbs      263 

ambition  to  '  go  up  higher  '  is  held  to  be  honourable 
and  right.  But  the  ideal  state  is  still  found  in 
each  one  cultivating  his  own  fig-tree,  and  looking 
well  to  his  flocks  and  herds  (xxvii.  i8ff.).  The 
chapters  appear,  therefore,  to  have  formed  an 
originally  independent  collection  of  miscellaneous 
proverbs,  the  beginnings  of  which  run  back  probably 
to  the  regal  period,  though  in  its  present  complete 
form  the  collection  presupposes  a  considerably  later 
date.  For  intermingled  with  more  primitive  ele- 
ments we  find,  even  in  the  three  opening  chapters, 
lofty  moral  apophthegms  {e.g.  xxv.  2 if.),  in  which 
the  influence  of  the  greater  prophets  is  evident. 
And  the  rest  of  the  collection  (ch.  xxviii.,  xxix.) 
bears  the  genuine  stamp  of  '  the  wise.'  The  older 
comparative  mould  here  yields  to  the  pointed  anti- 
theses of  deliberate  art.  The  temper  of  these  pro- 
verbs, too,  is  distinctively  ethical.  The  great 
issues  of  life  are  those  of  good  and  evil.  And  the 
standard  of  moral  judgment  is  the  Law.  The  wise 
are  they  who  keep  the  law  ;  the  foolish  such  as 
despise  the  law  (xxviii.  4ff.).  However  diverse, 
then,  the  age  and  origin  of  the  various  component 
parts,  the  '  Hezekiah  '  collection  as  a  whole  must  be 
dated  after  the  promulgation  of  the  Law — somewhere 
in  the  course  of  the  fourth  century.  ^ 

^  The  relative  antiquity  of  the  proverbs  in  ch.  xxv  .-xxix.  was 
first  clearly  recognized  by  Davidson  in  the  article  alluded  to 


264  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

The  main  body  of  '  proverbs  of  Solomon  '  which 
form  the  real  kernel  of  the  Book  may  reasonably 
be  assigned  to  the  same  general  period.  These  pro- 
verbs show  still  more  distinctive  marks  of  '  the 
wise.'  The  collection  is  composed  exclusively  of 
couplets/  the  first  half  (x.-xv.)  mainly  in  antithetic 
parallelism,  and  the  remainder  (xvi.-xxii.  16)  in 
the  more  easily  flowing  synonymous  or  synthetic 
measure  adapted  to  moral  exhortation.  The 
spiritual  tone  of  these  chapters  is  likewise  that  of 
developed  wisdom.  The  controversies  of  the  pro- 
phetic age  are  past,  and  the  vital  principles  of 
ethical  monotheism  assumed  as  the  basis  of  faith 
and  life.  Jahweh  is  the  one  righteous  Lord  and 
Ruler  of  the  Universe,  before  whom  all  must  bow 
in  humble  reverence  and  '  fear.'     While  the  Law 

His  position  has  been  accepted  in  general  by  later  scholars  like 
Driver,  Cornill,  Frankenberg,  and  Nowack.  The  objection 
raised  by  Kuenen — that  the  poetic  rhythm  of  these  chapters 
shows  '  a  less  degree  of  purity  and  beauty '  {B\si.  crit.  Onder- 
zoek,  III.  73) — seems  to  the  present  writer  to  point  still  more 
strongly  in  the  direction  suggested.  Toy  finds  '  the  more  human 
and  pointed  tone  of  the  second  group  '  to  accord  more  closely 
with  the  style  of  Ben  Sira  [Inter.  Crit.  Comm.,  p.  xxvii.).  But 
the  prevailing  synthetic  mould  of  the  proverbs  in  Ben  Sira  recalls 
rather  the  latter  half  of  the  first  group  (xvi.ff.),  and  the  appended 
'  sayings  of  the  wise.' 

^  The  only  exception  is  found  in  xix.  7,  where  the  text  is 
evidently  mutilated.  For  the  third  stichos  of  the  Mass.  text, 
LXX  reads  the  complete  couplet : — 

He  that  worketh  much  mischief  bringelh  about  harm  ; 
And  he  that  nseth  provoking  words  shall  not  escape. 


The   Book  of  Proverbs      265 

is  set  forth  as  the  standard  of  conduct,  the  privileges 
and  hopes  of  the  people  of  the  Law  are  no  longer 
confined  to  Israel.  The  view-point  of  the  proverbs 
is  universalistic  in  the  fullest  sense  of  the  term. 
Religion  is  a  real  ethical  relation  between  God 
and  the  soul  that  '  fears  '  Him.  In  details  of  moral 
life,  these  chapters  show  close  dependence  on  the 
prophets.  The  wisdom  they  enshrine  is  largely, 
indeed,  an  application  of  prophetic  principles  to 
the  daily  round  of  life.  But  the  sphere  within 
which  they  move  is  the  broad  world  of  the  more 
liberal  spirits  of  later  Judaism.  The  centre  of  this 
world  is  naturally  Jerusalem — but  a  Jerusalem 
watered  by  many  streams  of  influence  from  other 
regions.  The  holy  city  is  now  the  theatre  of  a 
rich  and  varied  civilization,  with  all  the  comforts, 
luxuries,  social  distractions,  and  vices  that  accom- 
pany such  development.  But  the  sympathies  of 
the  wise  reach  far  beyond  the  narrow  circle  of  their 
city  and  people.  They  mingle  freely  with  foreign 
kings  and  princes,  enjoying  their  hospitality,  and 
offering  them  sage  counsel  for  the  welfare  and 
prosperity  of  their  domains.^    To  the  sages  of  Israel 

^  The  frequent  references  to  kings  and  princes  is  often  held 
to  prove  the  pre-exihc  origin  of  these  collections.  But  the  same 
phenomena  appear  in  undeniably  late  sections  of  Proverbs  (e.g., 
in  the  praise  of  Wisdom,  viii.  i^i.)  and  throughout  the  Wisdom 
of  Ben  Sira,  i.e.  as  late  as  i8o  b.c.  The  latter  book  bears  wit- 
ness to  the  knowledge  of  the  wider  world  possessed  by  the  sages 
as  the  result  of  travel,  reading,  and  reflection. 


2  66  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

the  whole  circumference  of  human  life  is  God's  ; 
and  their  ambition  is  to  bring  all  within  the  influence 
of  the  Divine. 

In  these  two  collections,  then,  we  have  a  com- 
pendium of  Jewish  wisdom  at  its  purest  and  best. 
The  value  of  such  is  priceless.  As  crystallized 
deposits  of  religious  reflection,  they  help  to  fill  in 
the  background  of  poetry  and  prophecy,  revealing 
to  us  the  essential  unity  of  religious  life  in  Israel. 
But  the  proverbs  have  their  own  intrinsic  worth. 
For  spiritual  insight  and  enthusiasm  they  cannot, 
indeed,  be  compared  with  the  splendid  visions  of 
the  prophets  or  the  inspired  devotion  of  the  Psalm- 
ists. We  move  here  on  the  common  planes  of  life. 
In  general,  the  motive  of  the  proverbs  is  prudential, 
and  even  utilitarian.  They  show  an  undisguised 
appreciation  of  the  good  things  of  this  world — its 
prizes,  honours,  riches,  and  pleasures — and  point 
us  to  the  best  ways  of  winning  these.  But  the 
tone  of  the  Book  is  honest  and  true.  The  proverbs 
have  a  due  sense  of  the  Divine  dignity  and  glory 
of  life.  Man's  chief  end  is  found,  not  in  the  abund- 
ance of  his  possessions,  but  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord. 
And  all  other  good  things  are  related  to  this.  For 
only  as  he  governs  his  life  by  the  fear  of  the  Lord 
can  man  attain  to  true  happiness.  In  this  respect 
the  proverbs  of  the  Old  Testament  outshine  all 
other  prudential  literature.     At  their  highest  levels 


The   Book  of  Proverbs      267 

they  draw  very  near  to  the  pure  standard  of  Christ. 
The  proverbs  were  evidently  a  favourite  study 
with  Him  and  His  apostles.  And  not  a  few  of  the 
choicer  maxims  of  the  Book  have  been  woven  into 
the  texture  of  Christian  teaching.  As  the  broad 
principles  of  moral  conduct  remain  essentially  the 
same  in  both  Old  and  New  Testaments,  the  proverbs 
are  still  a  true  vade  mecum  for  the  man  who  wishes 
to  lead  an  honest  and  fruitful  life.  Nowhere  is 
sound  wisdom  more  pithily  commended;  and 
nowhere  have  we  such  powerfully  drawn  pictures 
of  the  ways  and  the  end  of  folly.  The  proverbs  lead 
us  on  the  straight,  clear  path  of  righteousness.  And 
even  while  they  draw  us  aside  to  reveal  the  beauties 
of  the  journey,  or  to  give  us  glimpses  of  the  joys 
that  await  us  at  the  end,  they  may  be  more  win- 
some in  their  appeals  than  the  pure  persuasion  of 
more  abstract  principles. 

These  earlier  collections  are  governed  by  no 
fixed  design.  Occasionally  proverbs  bearing  on 
the  same  subject  are  strung  together.  But  for  the 
most  part  the  methods  of  the  collector  are  quite 
arbitrary.  One  chapter  may  embrace  the  most 
heterogeneous  sayings.  And  not  unfrequently  the 
same  proverb  is  repeated  in  different  sections  of 
the  Book,  now  in  identically  the  same  form,  and 
again  with  some  slight  difference  in  detail.  To 
read    through   the    proverbs    is   thus    almost    like 


2  68  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

wandering  in  a  trackless  forest,  or  sauntering 
through  the  mazes  of  an  ill-assorted  picture  gallery. 
A  certain  approach  towards  methodical  arrange- 
ment may  be  observed  in  the  two  groups  of  '  sayings 
of  the  wise  '  appended  to  the  nucleus  of  the  Book 
(xxii.  17-xxiv.  22  ;  xxiv.  23-34),  where  a  series  of 
weighty  moral  maxims  is  gathered  into  little  clusters 
resembling  the  moral  homilies  of  Ben  Sira.  A 
somewhat  similar  collection  of  expanded  proverbs 
has  found  its  way  into  the  heart  of  the  Introduc- 
tion (iii.  27-35  ;  vi.  1-19).  The  hortatory  style  is 
here  still  more  developed,  while  the  second  part  of 
the  collection  (vi.  i6ff .)  offers  an  interesting  example 
of  the  numerical  proverb  so  characteristic  of  the 
*  words  of  Agur,'  and  certain  chapters  of  Ben 
Sira  and  the  Sayings  of  the  Fathers.  ^  But  the 
movement  of  thought  reaches  full  volume  and 
strength  only  in  the  sustained  exhortation  of  the 
introductory  chapters  (i.-ix.).  The  style  of  this 
section  is  that  rather  of  rich  rhetorical  prose  than 
of  finely  polished  poetry.  With  a  grave  sense  of 
the  solemnity  of  life,  the  wise  man  urges  his  youthful 
hearers,  now  in  the  affectionate  tones  of  a  father 
graciously  counselling  his  children,  and  again  by 
lurid  pictures  of  Folly  and  her  ways,  to  choose 
wisdom,  and  cleave  to  her  in  sincerity  and  truth, 
that  their  path  through  life  may  be  as  that  of  the 

1  Cf.  Ben  Sira,  xxv.  iff. ;  xxvi.  sff.  ;  Pirke  Aboth,  v.  iff. 


The  Book  of  Proverbs      269 

shining  light,  '  that  shineth  more  and  more  unto 
the  perfect  day.'  The  climax  of  the  whole  splendid 
piece  is  reached  in  ch.  viii.,  where  Wisdom  appears 
at  the  right  hand  of  God  in  heaven,  His  loved  com- 
panion and  associate  when  He  wrought  His  mighty 
works  of  old,  and  now,  as  she  stands  at  the  gates, 
and  implores  meji  to  come. unto  her  and  live,  the 
very  Word  of  God  and  the  Light  of  God. 

The  two  former  groups  are  clearly  subsequent 
in  date  to  both  collections  of  '  proverbs  of  Solomon,' 
and  may  be  assigned  to  the  end  of  the  fourth  cen- 
tury. The  introductory  chapters  are  still  later  in 
origin.  The  decadent  language,  the  highly  rhe- 
torical style,  and  such  long-drawn  syntactical 
periods  as  ii.  iff.,  point  to  the  middle  or  end  of  the 
third  century  B.C.,  when  Greek  influence  swept 
over  the  thought  and  life  of  Israel.  The  speculative 
interest  of  the  chapters  also  strongly  suggests  con- 
tact with  the  spirit  of  Greece.  To  the  same  fer- 
tilizing influence  we  may  most  reasonably  ascribe 
the  curiously  enigmatical,  bitter,  and  sceptical 
'  words  of  Agur  '  (ch.  xxx.),  which  are  saved  from 
pure  agnosticism  only  by  the  robust  Hebrew  faith 
that  survived  all  the  shocks  and  strains  of  circum- 
stance. The  grave,  yet  kindly  counsel  of  the  old 
Queen-mother  of  Lemuel  (xxxi.  1-9)  is  an  interesting 
specimen  of  Arabic  wisdom  transplanted  to  Pales- 
tine.   And  the  Book  closes  with  the  famous  alpha- 


270  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

betical  poem  in  praise  of  the  virtuous  woman 
(xxxi.  10-31),  a  picture  whose  colouring  is  unmis- 
takably Oriental,  but  which  is  cherished  equally 
by  the  daughters  of  the  West,  as  embodying  for 
all  time  the  ideal  of  the  good  and  loyal  housewife. 
These  three  sections  form  an  Appendix,  added 
soon  after  the  introductory  chapters.  As  a  whole, 
therefore,  the  Book  can  hardly  have  been  completed 
before  the  close  of  the  third  century,  A  later  date 
is  precluded  by  the  Wisdom  of  Ben  Sira  (c.  180 
B.C.),  which  shows  clear  dependence  on  Proverbs 
in  all  its  parts. 


CHAPTER    XVI 

The   Good  Man  of  the  Proverbs 

In  even  the  choicest  anthology  of  proverbs  it  is 
vain  to  search  for  any  consistent  philosophy  of  life 
— a  moral  universe  centring  round  some  fixed 
principle — as  in  Aristotle  and  modern  ethical 
systems.  The  world  of  proverbs  is  rather  a  cluster 
of  shining  points  of  light,  with  no  discoverable 
order  or  harmony.  A  certain  unity  is  given  to  the 
Proverbs  of  the  Bible,  however,  by  their  vital 
relation  to  wisdom.  Their  authors  are  '  wise  men,' 
who  seek  thus  to  instruct  their  readers  in  the  ways 
of  wisdom.  And  the  wisdom  of  Proverbs  is  not 
the  mere  intellectual  subtlety  of  the  Greeks,  nor 
yet  the  worldly  shrewdness,  sagacity,  and  savoir 
faire  of  early  Hebrew  sages,  but  the  practical  moral 
principle  of  the  good.  The  wise  man  is  he  who 
directs  his  life  worthily  and  well.  His  wisdom  is 
thus  virtually  identical  with  goodness.  And  the 
roots  of  both  lie  in  religion.  The  keynote  of  the 
Proverbs  is  struck  in  the  opening  chord.  '  The 
fear  of  Jahweh  is  the  beginning  of  wisdom  '  (i.  7). 
The  same    note    rings    through    the  whole   Book, 

271 


272  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

One  may  be  treading  the  commonest  paths  of  duty, 
adjusting  the  balances  in  the  bazaar,  or  following 
the  oxen  at  the  plough,  or  again  tasting  the  cups 
of  pleasure  in  the  banquetting-hall  or  at  home 
when  the  angelus  bell  sounds  out  its  heavenly  peal, 
recalling  one's  thoughts  to  the  great  end  of  human 
life — the  '  fear  of  Jahweh,'  which  is  alike  '  the  begin- 
ning of  wisdom  '  and  the  eternal  '  fountain '  of  all 
good  (ix.  10  ;  X.  27 ;  xiv.  26f.,  etc.).^  For  in  Proverbs 
religion  and  daily  life  are  linked  in  the  closest  wed- 
lock. The  soaring  piety  of  the  Psalms  raises  us 
often  far  beyond  the  world  and  its  myriad  interests. 
But  the  wise  men  of  Proverbs  have  their  feet  firmly 
planted  on  mother  earth.  With  them  religion  is 
rather  a  duty  than  a  joy,  a  motive  principle  of 
honourable  conduct  than  delight  in  God's  love  and 
truth.  The  aim  of  the  Proverbs  is,  in  fact,  to  in- 
culcate on  the  minds  of  the  young  the  vital  principles 
of  duty,  that  by  walking  on  the  paths  of  righteous- 
ness they  may  make  the  most  and  the  best  of  life. 
The  most  conspicuous  part  of  life  is  played  on 
the  open  stage  of  business.  And  the  tone  of  the 
Proverbs  in  this  whole  region  is  singularly  sane  and 
strong.  There  is  here  nothing  of  that  maudlin 
piety  which  counts  worldly  success    a  matter  of 

^  In  the  Wisdom  of  Ben  Sira,  the  '  fear  of  the  Lord  '  is  not 
merely  the  '  beginning  '  or  the  '  root,'  but  also  the  '  crown  '  and 
the  '  perfect  fulness  '  {TrXTifffMOfTfi)  of  wisdom — it  is  really  the  whole 
of  wisdom  (i.  142.). 


The  Good  Man  of  the  Proverbs  273 

moral  indifference.  To  the  wise  men  of  Proverbs 
business  is  a  Divine  calling,  and  riches  and  honour 
are  the  just  rewards  of  diligence.  At  the  very 
beginning  of  the  collection  this  healthy  tone  is 
set  : — 

A  slack  hand  bringeth  poverty  ; 

But  the  hand  of  the  diligent  maketh  rich. 
He  that  reapeth  in  summer  is  a  wise  son  ; 

But  he  that  sleepeth  in  harvest  is  a  shameless  one  (x.  4f.). 

The  same  principle  is  suggested  in  the  quaint 
picture  : — 

Where  no  oxen  are,  the  crib  is  clean  ; 
But  much  increase  cometh  by  the  strength  of  the  ox  (xiv.  4).* 

The  duty  of  unremitting  diligence  is  urged  again 
in  the  short  eclogue  appended  to  the  '  sayings  of 
the  wise  '  (xxvii.  23ff.)  : — 

Look  well  to  the  state  of  thy  flocks, 

And  give  good  heed  to  thy  herds  ; 
For  riches  last  not  for  ever. 

Nor  is  wealth  from  age  to  age. 
When  hay-time  is  over,  and  aftermath  shorn, 

And  the  herbs  of  the  mountain  are  garnered. 
Lambs  shall  thou  have  for  thy  clothing. 

And  goats  as  the  price  of  thy  field  ; 
Abundance  of  milk  for  thy  food, 

And  living  enough  for  thy  maidens. 

1  This  fine  saying  has  stimulated  one  of  Walter  C.  Smith's 

noblest  Thoughts  and  Fancies,  as  well  as  tender  proverbs  among 

various  nations.     It  is  possible,  however,  that  we  should  give  "13 

its  usual  interpretation  of  '  corn,'  and  read  DQX  for  DUX,  thus: 

Where  no  oxen  are,  no  corn  is  got ; 

But  much  increase  cometh  by  the  strength  of  the  ox. 

iS 


2  74  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

But  wealth  is  valued  also  for  the  position  it  gives 
men,  and  the  opportunities  it  brings  of  influence 
and  helpfulness. 

The  rich  man's  wealth  is  his  strong  city  ; 

But  poverty  is  the  ruin  of  the  poor  (x.  15). 
The  poor  man  is  hated  even  by  his  neighbours  ; 

But  the  rich  hath  many  friends  (xiv,  20). 
Seest  thou  a  man  skilled  in  his  business, — 

In  the  presence  of  kings  shall  he  stand, 

He  shall  not  stand  in  presence  of  the  obscure  (xxii.  29).* 

To  bring  its  blessing,  however,  wealth  must  be  justly 
gained.  For  the  world  of  business  is  Jahweh's, 
the  balance  and  scales  are  His,  and  the  weights  in 
the  bag  (xvi.  ii).  Therefore  '  justice  and  judgment 
are  more  acceptable  to  Him  than  sacrifice  '  (xxi. 
3),  while  meanness  and  dishonesty  are  an  abomina- 
tion. 

Divers  weights,  divers  measures — 

Abominations  to  Jahweh  are  both  of  them  (xx.  10). 

Far  better  poverty,  therefore,  than  unjust  gain. 

Better  a  little  with  righteousness 

Than  great  revenues  with  injustice  (xvi.  8). 
Better  the  poor  that  walketh  in  his  integrity 

Than  the  man  crooked  in  his  ways,  though  rich  (xxviii,  6), 

For  character  is  more  than  riches. 

*  The  usual  distich  form  is  here  departed  from.  It  has  there- 
fore been  suggested  that  the  second  stichos  should  be  omitted. 
One  would  rather  believe  that  the  original  parallel  to  the  first 
stichos  has  dropped  out,  and  that  the  second  and  third  fit  into  each 
other. 


The  Good  Man  of  the  Proverbs  275 

A  good  name  is  rather  to  be  chosen  than  great  riches; 

And  to  be  held  in  favour  is  better  than  silver  and  gold  (xxii.  i). 

Character  abides  ;  but  ill-gotten  gains  take  wings 
and  fly  away  (xxiii.  4f.),  or  lead  but  to  sin  and  ruin. 

Treasures  of  wickedness  profit  nothing  ; 

But  righteousness  delivereth  from  death  (x.  2). 
Wealth  gathered  in  haste  grows  small  ; 

But  that  which  is  gradually  amassed  increaseth  (xiii.  11), 
He  that  getteth  treasures  by  a  lying  tongue 

Pursueth  a  bubble  to  snares  of  death  (xxi.  6) 

Thus,while  they  commend  the  diligence  that  maketh 
rich,  the  Proverbs  warn  men,  as  gravely  as  Jesus 
did,  against  trust  in  riches. 

He  that  trusteth  in  his  riches  shall  fall  ; 

But  like  a  green  leaf  shall  the  righteous  flourish  (xi.  28). 
An  honest  man  will  be  blessed  abundantly  ; 

But  he  hath  hasteth  to  be  rich  shall  not  go  unpunished  (xxviii.  20) 

The  fair  picture  of  the  good  man  prosperous  and 
honoured  is  set  in  vivid  relief  by  a  series  of  brilliantly 
drawn  sketches  of  the  contrast,  which  are  as  true 
to  life  to-day  as  when  they  were  drawn  by  the 
wise  men  of  Israel.  The  most  effective,  perhaps, 
is  the  inimitable  portrait  of  the  sluggard,  lying 
lazily  in  bed,  when  he  should  be  up  and  doing,  pray- 
ing for  '  a  little  more  sleep,  a  little  more  slumber,' 
until  suddenly  '  poverty  cometh  upon  him  as  a 
robber,  and  want  as  a  man  in  arms  '  (vi.  gff.),  or 
'  burying  his  hand  in  the  dish,  too  slothful  to  lift 
it  to  his  mouth  again  '  (xix.  24 ;  xxvi.  15),  afraid  to 


276  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

plough  by  reason  of  the  cold  in  winter,  and  finding 
nothing  when  he  looks  for  harvest  (xx.  4),  or  kept 
from  business  by  fears  of  danger  in  the  streets, 
thus  allowing  the  prizes  of  life  to  slip  from  his 
grasp  (xxii.  13;  xxvi.  13).  Other  fine  portrayals 
of  character  are  those  of  the  fool  whose  eyes  are  '  in 
the  ends  of  the  earth,'  too  engrossed  in  Utopian 
schemes  to  attend  to  the  duties  of  the  near  and 
present  (xvii.  24),  the  lover  of  pleasure,  who  gives 
to  indulgence  in  '  wine  and  oil '  the  precious  hours 
of  business,  and  thus  never  can  be  rich  (xxi.  17), 
the  thoughtless  man  who  becomes  surety  for  a 
stranger  he  knows  nothing  of,  and  must  one  day 
'  smart  for  it  '  (xi.  15  ;  xvii.  18,  etc.),  the  litigious 
who  hurries  his  case  to  court,  reckless  of  the  loss  and 
shame  he  must  suffer  '  in  the  end  thereof '  (xxv. 
8f.),  and  the  busj^body  who  meddles  with  other 
people's  affairs,  only  to  find  he  has  '  caught  a  dog 
by  the  ears  '  (xxvi.  17).  Into  pictures  like  these  a 
strong  dash  of  humour  is  often  thrown.  But  the 
Proverbs  assume  a  darker  tone  when  they  paint 
the  portraits  of  the  sharp  dealer  with  his  '  Bad, 
bad  !  '  while  he  haggles  in  the  market,  and  his  proud 
boasting  when  he  strikes  his  bargain,  and  returns 
home  with  his  capture  (xx.  14),  the  remover  of  the 
ancient  landmark,  who  schemes  to  bring  the  whole 
world  under  his  control  (xxii.  28),  the  monopolist, 
^ho  holds  up  the  corn,  regardless  of  the  sufferings 


The  Good  Man  of  the  Proverbs  277 

he  inflicts  on  the  needy  (xi.  26),  the  disinheritor  of 
the  fatherless  (xxiii.  10),  the  oppressor  of  the  poor, 
who  thus  reproacheth  his  Maker  (xiv.  31),  and  the 
open  bandit,  who  preys  upon  the  simple  and  the 
helpless,  counting  wrong-doing  but  sport  for  himself 
and  his  comrades  (iv.  16;  x.  23;  xxii.  22f.,  etc.). 

But  man's  duties  to  his  fellows  are  not  confined 
to  business  honesty.  Jahweh  has  made  all  men 
alike  (xxii.  2).  And  He  means  them  to  live  together 
in  friendship  and  harmony.  Thus  the  wisdom  of 
Proverbs  embraces  also  the  courtesies  and  civilities 
of  polite  society.  The  good  man  of  the  Proverbs 
is  a  'very  perfect'  gentleman.^  He  not  merely 
avoids  the  least  appearance  of  evil,  but  he  puts  far 

^  Toy  has  noted  among  the  more  conspicuous  qualities  omitted 
in  Proverbs  the  virtues  of  courage,  fortitude,  moderation  in 
thought,  self-sacrifice,  and  intellectual  truthfulness,  which  fill 
so  large  a  place  in  Greek  ethical  systems.     He  justly  observes, 
however,  that  '  the  silence  of  the  sages  (and  of  Old  Testament 
generally)  respecting  these  traits  is  doubtless  to  be  interpreted 
as  indicating  not  that  they  did  not  exist  among  the  Israelites, 
but  chiefly  that  the  moralists  attached  more  importance  to  other 
quaUties  as  effective  forces  in  the  struggle  of  life  ;   the  last-men- 
tioned virtue,  further,  belongs  to  a  mode  of  thought  which  was 
foreign  to  the  Jewish  mind.     The  obligation  to  seek  truth  is 
recognized  in  i.  2  ;  iii.  3,  etc.,  but  the  "  truth  "  is  that  law  of  con- 
duct obedience  to  which  secures  prosperity  and  happiness.     Of 
beauty  as  an  element  of  life  nothing  is  said  ;   the  failure  to  men- 
tion it  is  due  not  to  the  religious  character  of  the  Book  (for  much 
of  the  material  of  Proverbs  is  non-religious),  but  to  the  fact  that 
the  Jewish  sages  had  not  been  trained  to  distinct  recognition  of 
the  value  of  the  beautiful  in  the  conduct  of  life '  (Inter.  Crit.  Comm. 
p.  xiii.). 


278  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

from  him  all  vulgarity  and  forwardness,  ostentation 
and  self-advertisement,  sharp  speaking,  scandal- 
mongering,  scoffing  and  winking  at  sacred  things, 
and  whispering  and  sowing  seeds  of  discord  behind 
the  scenes.  The  wise  man  is  restrained  in  spirit, 
believing  that  he  who  masters  his  spirit  is  stronger 
than  he  '  that  taketh  a  city  '  (xvi.  32) ;  he  is  peaceful 
and  humble,  '  slow  to  anger '  (xiv.  29,  etc.), 
guarding  his  mouth  as  the  very  citadel  of  the  life 
(xiii.  3),  silent  when  that  is  fitting,  but  master  of 
the  pleasant  word  that  is  '  sweet  to  the  soul  and 
healing  to  the  bones  '  (xvi.  24).  He  thinks  not  evil 
of  his  neighbour,  but  rather  believes  and  hopes  the 
best  of  him.  Instead  of  harping  on  offences,  to 
the  separation  even  of  the  chief  of  friends,  he  covers 
up  transgressions,  letting  bygones  be  bygones, 
thus  restoring  affection  (xvii.  9).  He  is  no  flatterer, 
for  he  that  flatters  but  '  spreadeth  a  net  '  for  the 
ruin  of  his  neighbour  (xviii.  8;  xxix.  5).  But  he 
knows  full  well  the  influence  of  the  '  gentle  word  ' 
to  pacify  anger  (xv.  i,  4,  18,  etc.),  and  does  not  even 
disdain  the  persuasion  of  the  '  gift  in  secret  '  (xxi. 
14).  He  will  not  withhold  from  his  neighbour  the 
good  that  is  due  him,  nor  put  him  off  by  vain 
promises  for  the  morrow  (iii.  27f.).  He  is  a  lover 
of  friendly  visits,  though  his  foot  is  not  too  often 
to  be  found  in  his  neighbour's  house  (xxv.  17).  And, 
realizing  the  power  of  the  '  merry  heart '  to  gladden 


The  Good  Man  of  the  Proverbs  279 

the  countenance,  and  so  to  flood  the  world  with 
sunshine,  he  enjoys  the  pleasures  of  the  banquet 
betimes.  But  he  avoids  all  excess  and  display.  At 
table  he  takes  a  modest  place,  feeling  how  much 
better  it  is  to  be  called  up  higher  than  to  be  degraded 
from  the  seat  of  honour  (xxv.  6f.).  He  is  temperate 
in  eating  and  drinking.  There  is  nothing  in  the 
Proverbs  of  that  spirit  of  riot  and  licence  which 
runs  through  the  banquetting-songs  of  the  Greeks. 
The  wise  man  '  puts  a  knife  to  his  throat,'  if  he  be 
given  to  appetite  (xxiii.  2).  He  is  especially  careful 
of  the  cup.  He  knows  what  evil  strong  drink  has 
wrought,  and  not  merely  restrains  himself,  but 
urges  upon  his  readers  the  deadly  perils  of  intem- 
perance : — 

Wine  is  a  mocker,  strong  drink  a  brawler  ; 
He  that  erreth  thereby  is  not  wise  (xx.  i). 

Who  have  woe  ?  Who  have  pain  ? 

Who  have  strifes  ?  Who  complaints  ? 
Who  have  wounds  without  cause  ? 

Who  have  redness  of  eyes  ? 
They  that  stay  long  over  wine, 

And  give  themselves  oft  to  the  mixture. 
So  look  not  on  wine  when  'tis  red. 

When  it  gleameth  bright  in  the  cup, 

A  nd  goeth  down  smooth  in  the  mouth  ! 
At  the  last  it  bites  like  a  snake. 

And  stings  like  an  adder  (xxiii.  29^.). 

Thus  the  wise  man  is  a  centre  of  gracious  influence 
to  the  whole  circle  of  his  acquaintance.  But  far 
beyond  that  his  goodness  flows.     His  heart  reaches 


2  8  o  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

out  in  loving  sympathy  to  all  God's  creatures.  He 
is  a  true  friend  and  comforter  of  the  suffering, 
though  he  will  not  intrude  upon  the  heart's  secret 
bitterness  or  joy  (xiv.  lo),  nor  '  pour  vinegar  on  a 
raw  wound  '  by  singing  songs  to  a  heavy  heart 
(xxv.  20).  Those  in  danger  of  death  from  oppres- 
sion or  unjust  judgment  he  exerts  himself  to  save, 
offering  no  pleas  of  ignorance  or  inability  to  help 
(xxiv.  11).  On  the  poor  and  needy  he  freely  be- 
stows his  kindness,  believing  that  to  show  kindness 
to  the  needy  is  really  honouring  his  Maker  (xiv. 
31),  and  actually  '  lending  to  Jahweh,'  in  the  con- 
fidence of  a  rich  return  (xix.  17).  The  wise  man 
is  equally  considerate  of  his  dumb  brothers  in  the 
field. 

The  righteous  regardeth  the  life  of  his  beast  ; 
But  the  heart  of  the  wicked  is  cruel  (xii.  lo). 

His  kindness  extends  even  to  his  enemies.  The 
motive  of  personal  reward  may  still  linger  in  the 
background.  But  there  is  a  real  approach  to 
Christian  ethics  in  the  good  man's  refusal  to  recom- 
pense evil,  but  rather  to  '  wait  on  Jahweh  '  for 
salvation  (xx.  22),  and  still  more  closely  in  his  warn- 
ing against  Schadenfreude,  and  the  encouragement 
to  requite  one's  enemies  with  good  for  evil : — 

Rejoice  not  when  thine  enemy  falleth, 

Nor  let  thy  heart  be  glad  when  he  stumlleth  ; 

Lest  Jahweh  see  it,  and  be  displeased, 

And  turn  His  wrath  from  him  (xxiv.  lyi.). 


The  Good  Man  of  the  Proverbs  281 

//  thine  enemy  hunger,  feed  him  ; 

If  he  thirst,  give  him.  water  to  drink  : 
For  coals  of  fire  shall  thou  heap  on  his  head. 

And  Jahweh  will  bring  thee  reward  (xxv.  2if.).^ 

This  kindness  which  is  the  cement  of  ordinary 
courtesy  and  respect  is  still  more  truly  the  bond  of 
friendship.  In  the  moral  world  of  Proverbs  friend- 
ship is  an  essential  part  of  wisdom.  And  they 
enshrine  the  glory  of  worthy  friendship  in  memorable 
figures.  They  know  how  pure  and  elevated  a  joy 
the  affection  of  a  true  friend  adds  to  life,  and  how 
richly  it  enlarges  the  nature,  giving  keenness  of 
edge  to  the  intellect,  and  the  fine  touch  of  sympathy 
to  the  heart. 

As  iron  shavpeneth  iron, 

A  man  skarpeneth  the  face  of  his  friend  (xxvii.  17). 
As  in  water  face  answereth  to  face, 

So  answereth  the  heart  of  man  to  man  (xxvii.  19). 

*  The  principle  of  '  Love  your  friends,  and  hate  your  enemies, 
which  has  been  described  as  the  Golden  Rule  of  paganism,  and 
which  finds  so  frequent  expression  in  the  Greek  gnomic  poets, 
for  example — though  Plato  and  Aristotle  both  occupy  the  higher 
ethical  platform  (cf.  Apol.  30;  Crito  49;  Nic.  Eth.  II.  vii.  15, 
etc.) — is  the  prevailing  ideal  of  the  Old  Testament  too.  Ap- 
proaches to  the  Christian  standpoint  have  been  met  with  in  Ps. 
vii.  4f .  and  Job  xxxi.  29.  Ben  Sira  also  warns  his  readers  against 
maUcious  joy  over  an  enemy's  death  (viii.  7),  and  even  counsels 
forgiveness  of  injuries  as  the  only  sure  means  of  winning  forgive- 
ness from  God  in  prayer  (xxviii.  iff.).  But  in  general  he  moves 
within  the  limitations  of  the  older  view,  advising  good  to  be  done 
to  the  godly,  but  no  help  to  be  given  to  the  sinner  (xii.  2ff.)  ; 
he  even  reckons  it  among  liis  nine  chief  joys  '  to  live  to  see  the 
fall  of  his  enemy '  (xxv.  7),  or  at  least  to  leave  behind  him  '  an 
avenger  against  his  enemy'  (xxx.  6). 


2  82  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

To  the  good  man  of  Proverbs  friendship  is  a  never- 
failing  support.  A  friend  is  a  real  brother  in 
affection  and  sympathy. 

A  friend  loveth  at  all  times  ; 

As  a  brother  is  he  born  for  adversity  (xvii.  17). 

In  times  of  trouble  a  neighbour  or  friend  at  hand 
is  better  even  'than  a  brother  afar'  (xxvii.  10). 
In  the  kindly  touch  of  his  hand  there  is  comfort 
and  joy.    Even  in  his  wounds  there  is  healing. 

Faithful  are  the  wounds  of  a  friend  ; 

But  treacherous  the  kisses  of  an  enemy  (xxvii.  6). 

Thus  the  very  preciousness  of  the  gift  should  make 
a  man  the  more  careful  in  the  choice  of  his  friends. 
For  there  are  few  found  to  stand  the  fullest  test. 

There  are  friends  that  play  the  part  of  friendship  ;  ^ 

And  a  friend  (lit.  lover)  there  is  that  sticketh  closer  than  a  brothet 
(xviii.  24). 

Many  a  man  will  profess  himself  friendly  ; 
But  a  faithful  man  who  can  find  ?  (xx.  6). 

And  there  are  friendships  that  lead  but  to  ruin. 
For  just  as  good  friends  lift  our  natures  Godward, 
evil  friendships  drag  us  swiftly  to  the  pit. 

Walk  with  wise  men,  and  thou  shall  be  wise  ; 

But  the  companions  of  fools  shall  come  to  grief  (xiii.  20). » 


1  I  have  here  followed  LXX,  etc.,  in  reading  ninnn^  O'Vl  K'\ 

»  To  such  sayings  parallels  may  be  found  in  the  proverbial  lore 

of  many  nations,  as  well  as  in  systematic  treatises  like  Aristotle's 

Nicomachean  Ethics.  Books  VIII  and  IX.      But  perhaps    the 

nearest  analogies  are  offered  in  the  Wisdom  of  Ben  Sira  : — 


The  Good  Man  of  the  Proverbs  283 

The  good  man  shows  the  finest  side  of  his  nature, 
however,  to  those  of  his  own  flesh  and  blood.  The 
ideal  of  happy  home-life  upheld  in  Proverbs  is 
singularly  attractive.  At  the  thought  of  home, 
the  habitual  reserve  of  the  Proverb-makers  is  broken 
through.  The  idyllic  grace  of  '  love  in  a  cottage  ' 
touches  the  hidden  chord  of  music  in  their  hearts. 

Better  a  dish  of  herbs  where  love  is. 

Than  a  fatted  ox  and  hatred  therewith  (xv.  17). 

Better  a  dry  morsel  and  quietness  therewith. 

Than  an  house  full  of  feasting  with  strife  (xvii.  i). 

And  in  singing  the  praises  of  a  good  wife,  their 

A  faithful  friend  is  a  strong  defence  ; 

He  that  findeth  him,  hath  found  a  treasure. 
A  faithful  friend  is  beyond  price  ; 

Nothing  can  outweigh  the  blessing  of  him. 
A  faithful  friend  is  the  medicine  1^?)  of  life  ; 

He  that  feareth  God  shall  gain  such  an  one  (vi.  I4ff.) 

Exchange  not  a  friend  at  any  price  ; 

Nor  a  true  brother  for  gold  of  Ophir  (vii.  18). 

Let  not  an  old  friend  go  ; 

For  a  new  one  is  not  to  be  compared  with  him. 
A  new  friend  is  like  new  wine  ; 

Only  when  it  is  old,  canst  thou  drink  it  (ix.  10). 

Every  friend  saith,  I  am  a  friend  ; 

But  there  are  friends  that  are  friends  only  in  name. 
There  is  a  friend  that  keepeth  his  eye  on  the  table, 

But  in  the  time  of  trouble  turneth  against  one. 
A  good  friend  fighteth  against  one's  enemy. 

And  in  front  of  the  foe  holdeth  up  a  buckler. 
Forget  not  thy  friend  in  the  fight  ; 

And  leave  him  not  when  thoufindest  thy  spoil,  etc.  (xxxvii.  iff.). 


284  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

words  are  charged  with  the  joyful  enthusiasm  of 
tnie  poetry. 

He  that  findeth  a  wife  findeth  a  good  thing  ; 

'Tis  a  favour  from  Jahwek  he  winneth  (xviii.  22). 
House  and  riches  are  an  inheritance  from  fathers  ; 

But  a  prudent  wife  is  a  gift  from  Jahweh  (xix.  x^\. 
A  good  wife  who  can  find  ? 

For  her  price  is  far  above  corals  (xxxi.  10).* 


*  We  may  again  compare  the  Wisdom  of  Ben  Sira  : — 
Happy  the  man  that  hath  a  good  wife  ; 

For  the  number  of  his  days  shall  be  doubled. 
An  honest  wife  gladdens  her  husband's  heart. 

And  fills  his  years  full  of  peace. 
A  good  wife  is  a  good  portion  ; 

She  shall  be  given  in  the  lot  of  those  who  fear  the  Lord, 
Be  a  man  rich,  then,  or  poor,  his  heart  is  glad  ; 

His  countenance  is  always  cheerful  (xxvi.  iff.). 

A  gracious  wife  delighteth  her  husband  ; 

A  wise  one  fattens  his  bones. 
A  quiet  wife  is  a  gift  of  God  ; 

And  nothing  is  worth  more  than  a  disciplined  spirit, 
A  modest  wife  is  grace  upon  grace  ; 

And  a  chaste  spirit  is  beyond  all  price. 
As  the  sun  when  it  riseth  on  the  heights  of  heaven, 

Is  the  beauty  of  a  good  wife  in  the  fair  realm  of  her  home  (xxvi. 
I3ff.). 

A  wife's  beauty  gladdens  the  countenance  ; 

It  surpasseth  all  the  delights  of  the  eye. 
And  if  thereto  she  be  kindly  in  speech. 

Her  husband  is  no  more  like  other  men. 
He  that  winneth  a  wife  hath  the  best  of  gains — 

A  stronghold  fortified,  and  a  pillar  of  support. 
Without  a  fence,  the  vineyard  is  destroyed  ; 

And  without  a  wife,  man  is  a  restless  wanderer  (xxxvi.  22ff.). 


The  Good  Man  of  the  Proverbs  285 

The  high-water  mark  of  poetic  beauty  in  the  Book 
of  Proverbs  is  reached,  indeed,  in  this  closing  chap- 
ter, where  the  gracious  features  of  the  good  wife's 
character  are  lovingly  dwelt  upon — her  loyalty, 
industry,  and  intelligence,  her  care  for  herself  and 
her  family,  her  prudence,  dignity,  and  kindness  of 
heart,  her  charity  to  the  poor,  and  her  sweetness 
of  countenance  and  speech  (xxxi.  loff.).  And  the 
home  where  such  love  and  goodness  preside  is 
exalted  as  a  sacred  focus  of  honour  and  blessing  : — 

Her  husband  is  marked  in  the  gates. 
When  he  sits  with  the  elders  in  council. 

*  *  dtl  * 

Her  children  rise,  and  bless  her. 

Her  husband  also  extols  her : 
'  Many  daughters  have  done  well, 

But  thou  hast  excelled  them  all'  {vv.  23  fE.). 

It  is  true,  the  ideal  of  the  Proverbs  is  still  based  on 
the  old-world  conception  of  marriage.  But  the 
spirit  of  love  that  sanctifies  the  tie  raises  us  fai 
beyond  the  common  ethnic  standard.  In  the 
proverbs  of  Israel  wedded  love  involves  mutual 
trust  and  loyalty.  And  on  this  foundation  the 
family  life  reposes.  The  wise  man's  delight  is  to 
see  his  children  growing  up  around  him  in  wisdom 
and  honour.  And  his  sorest  trial  is  to  find  them 
give  way  to  folly  and  disgrace.  The  very  first 
proverb  in  the  main  '  Solomonic  '  Collection  points 
the  contrasts  ; — 


2  86  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

A  wise  son  maketh  a  glad  father  ; 

But  a  foolish  son  is  a  grief  to  his  mother  (x.  i). 

And  the  same  sharp  antitheses  are  drawn  in  various 
other  proverbs  {e.g.  xv.  20  ;  xvii.  21,  25,  etc.).  Thus 
the  importance  of  early  training  is  duly  emphasized. 
For,  according  to  the  sane  outlook  of  Proverbs, 
the  child's  future  lay  largely  in  the  hands  of  his 
parents. 

Train  up  a  child  in  the  way  he  should  go; 

And  even  when  he  is  old,  he  will  not  depart  from  it  (xxii.  6). 

The  discipline  of  Proverbs  may  be  somewhat  severe. 
For  folly  seems  to  the  wise  men  of  Israel  to  be 
'  bound  up  in  the  heart  of  a  child,'  to  yield  to  no 
less  powerful  a  persuasion  than  the  rod  (xxii.  15). 
Therefore  they  encourage  timely  application. 

He  that  spareth  his  rod  hateth  his  son, 

But  he  that  loveth  him  visiteth  him  xvith  chastisement  (xiii.  24). 
Chasten  thy  son  while  still  there  is  hope — 

And  set  not  thy  heart  on  his  destruction  (xix.  18). 
Withhold  not  correction  from  the  child  ; 

If  thou  be  at  him  with  the  rod,  he  will  be  saved  from  death  (xxiii.  13).* 


^  The  same  stern  principles  pervade  the  Wisdom  of  Ben  Sira 
He  that  loveth  his  son  plies  him  with  many  stripes. 

Thai  he  may  have  joy  of  him  at  the  end. 
He  that  chasteneth  his  son  shall  have  good  by  him, 

And  shall  be  able  to  boast  of  him  among  his  acquaintance. 
*  ».  *  m 

An  unbroken  horse  turns  o'.;t  stubborn. 

And  a  child  left  to  himself  grows  up  headstrong. 


The  Good  Man  of  the  Proverbs  287 

But  with  all  its  apparent  sternness  the  home 
training  of  the  wise  is  governed  by  a  spirit  of 
warm,  deep  affection  for  the  children.  Their  aim 
is  consistently  to  win  their  tender  hearts  to  the 
love  of  wisdom.  And  they  do  so  by  painting  her 
attractions  in  the  brightest  of  colours.  One  of  the 
later  sages  affectionately  recalls  the  gracious  influ- 
ence of  his  old  home  life  : — 

/  was  a  son  to  my  father, 

Tender  and  only  beloved  in  the  eyes  of  my  mother  ; 
And  he  taught  me,  and  said  to  me  : 

'  Let  thine  heart  retain  my  words. 
Keep  my  commandments,  and  live  ; 

Swerve  not  from  the  words  of  my  mouth. 
The  first  thing  is  wisdom — 50  get  wisdom  ; 

And  with  all  that  thou  gettest,  get  understanding. 
Forsake  her  not — she  will  preserve  thee  ; 

Love  her,  and  she  will  keep  thee. 
Prize  her,  and  she  will  exalt  thee  ; 

She  will  raise  thee  to  honour,  if  thou  wilt  embrace  her. 
On  thy  head  will  she  place  a  chaplet  of  beauty  ; 

A  crown  of  glory  she  will  bestoiu  on  thee  (iv.  sff.)- 

And  he  feels  he  can  best  express  his  gratitude  to  the 
old  father  who  taught  him  the  ways  of  wisdom  by 
handing  down  the  same  gracious  precepts  to  his 
children  and  all  besides  who  wUl  hear  him  : — 

Coddle  a  child,  and  he  will  bring  thee  to  trouble  ; 

Play  with  him,  and  he  will  cause  thee  grief. 
*  *  *  * 

Bow  down  his  neck,  while  he  is  young  ; 

And  smite  his  loins,  while  he  is  small. 
Why  should  he  grow  stubborn,  and  disobey  thee. 

And  sorrow  be  brought  to  thy  soul  ?  (xxx.  iflf,). 


2  88  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

Hear,  ye  sons,  the  instruction  of  a  father  ; 

And  attend  that  ye  may  know  understanding. 
For  counsel  good  I  give  you. 

So  forsake  ye  not  my  teaching  {vv.  if.). 

This  picture  is  in  full  harmony  with  the  general 
temper  of  the  Book.  The  whole  tone  of  family 
life  is  honest,  upright,  healthy,  because  the  founda- 
tions are  surely  laid  on  the  fear  of  Jahweh,  and  the 
great  desire  of  parents  is  to  train  their  children  in 
this  fear — to  make  of  their  homes  real  sanctuaries 
of  reverence  and  love,  and  happy  nurseries  of  noble 
men  and  women. 

Over  against  this  bright  and  joyful  scene  stands 
the  dark  shadow  of  the  home  whence  love  is  ban- 
ished, and  where  contention  and  discord  prevail. 
The  proverbs  that  depict  so  miserable  a  state  seem 
wrung  out  of  bitter  experience. 

As  a  gold  ring  in  a  swine's  snout 

Is  a  fair  woman  that  lacketh  discretion  (xi,  22), 
A  good  wife  is  a  crown  to  her  husband  ; 

But  a  shameless  woman  is  as  rottenness  in  his  bones  (xii.  4). 
Better  to  dwell  in  a  garret  on  the  housetop. 

Than  with  a  quarrelsome  woman  in  a  spacious  house  (xxi.  9). 
Better  to  dwell  in  a  desert  land. 

Than  with  a  quarrelsome  and  nagging  wife  (xxi.   19). 

To  destroy  the  peace  and  comfort  of  the  home 

A  constant  dripping  in  a  rainy  day 

And  a  quarrelsome  woman  are  alike  (xxvii.  15). 

But  still  more  tragic  is  the  fate  of  the  home  that 
shame  has  entered,  or  whose  young  men  have  des- 


The  Good  Man  of  the  Proverbs  289 

pised  instruction,  and  gone  after  folly.  No  blacker 
pictures  have  ever  been  drawn  of  the  seductions 
of  '  the  strange  woman,'  who  lieth  in  wait  at  the 
corners  of  the  streets,  to  lure  young  fools  into  the 
perfumed  chambers,  which  are  but  the  trap-doors 
to  death  and  Sheol  (cf.  v.  iff. ;  vi.  20ff. ;  vii.  iff. ; 
xxiii.  26ff.,  etc.).  The  young  man's  only  safety  is 
steadfast  resistance  to  every  form  of  evil. 

My  son,  if  sinners  entice  thee. 
Consent  thou  not  (i.  lo). 

Let  thine  eyes  look  right  on, 

Thine  eyelids  be  directed  straight  before  thee; 
Make  level  the  path  of  thy  feet. 

And  let  all  thy  ways  be  firm  ; 
Turn  not  to  right  or  left. 

Thy  feet  keep  far  from  evil  (iv.  25ff.). 

This  love  of  home  which  sheds  such  lustre  on  the 
Book  of  Proverbs  extends  to  the  larger  life  of  the 
people.  The  Jews  have  been  proverbial  for  their 
wanderings.  Yet  their  heart  is  ever  toward  Jeru- 
salem. Thus  in  a  foreign  land  the  wise  man  felt 
himself  lost,  '  like  a  bird  that  wandereth  from 
its  nest '  (xxvii.  8).  And  when  his  sons  went 
forth  to  seek  their  fortunes  in  distant  places,  there 
was  nothing  that  brought  him  greater  refreshment 
of  spirit  than  '  good  news  from  a  far  country  ' 
(xxv.  25).  The  outlook  of  Proverbs  may  be  human- 
istic. Yet  the  roots  of  the  wise  man's  affections 
are  twined  around  the  hills  of  Judea.     And  his 

19 


290  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

(  "^sire  is  to  see  his  own  city  prosperous,  happy, 
and  honoured  among  the  nations.  There  is  nothing 
in  Proverbs  of  the  eager,  cultured  democratic  feeling 
of  the  Greek  sages.  The  powers  that  be  are  estab- 
lished of  God  Himself.  And  the  wise  man  cares 
not  to  contemplate  rash  innovations. 

My  son,  fear  thou  Jahweh  and  the  king, 

A  nd  meddle  not  with  such  as  are  given  to  change ;  * 

For  suddenly  cometh  ruin  at  their  hands. 

And  who  knoweth  the  destruction  that  both  of  them  bring? 
(xxiv.   2lff.). 

Yet  the  political  S5anpathies  of  Proverbs  are 
not  with  unreasoning  conservatism.  Great  ideals 
of  what  a  city  ought  to  be  float  before  their  vision, 
and  they  urge  all  legitimate  means  to  make  their 
ideals  effective.  The  true  citizen  should  be  law- 
abiding,  one  that  fears  God  and  honours  the  king ', 
he  should  be  peaceable,  prudent,  restrained  in 
speech  and  conduct,  and  not  given  to  disturb  the 
social  order.  But  he  should  likewise  exert  himself 
to  raise  the  tone  of  the  city.  For  long-established 
prestige,  and  outward  power  and  splendour,  are 
not  enough  as  bulwarks  of  the  state. 

Righteousness  exaltetk  a  nation. 

And  sin  is  the  ruin  of  peoples  (xiv.  34). 

In  the  Oriental  world  the  king  was  all-powerful. 
And  the  wise  man's  counsel  is  chiefly  directed  to 
him.     A  wicked  king  was  like  *  a  roaring  lion,  and 

*  Or,  according  to  LXX,  lift  not  thyself  up  against  both  of  them 


The  Good  Man  of  the  Proverbs  291 

a  ranging  bear,'  making  havoc  of  his  people  (xxviii. 
15),  corrupting  his  servants  too  (xxix.  12),  and 
making  the  land  to  groan  under  his  oppression 
(xxix.  2ff.).  The  true  foundation  of  the  throne 
was  righteousness,  with  its  blessed  results  in  gracious 
kindness,  mercy  and  truth  (xvi.  12 ;  xx.  28).  It 
should  be  the  aim,  therefore,  of  those  to  whom  God 
had  given  influence,  through  their  age,  position,  or 
wealth,  to  be  good  counsellors  of  the  king,  that  the 
land  they  loved  might  flourish  in  righteousness.  And 
the  Proverbs  have  enough  of  the  democratic  spirit 
to  see  that  even  apart  from  the  king  and  his  coun- 
sellors the  city  might  prosper  through  the  righteous 
lives  of  its  common  citizens. 


By  the  blessing  of  the  upright  the  city  is  exalted  ; 

But  by  the  mouth  of  the  wicked  it  is  overthrown  (xi.  ii). 
When  the  righteous  triumph,  there  is  great  glory  ; 

But  when  the  wicked  rise  to  power,  men  hide  themselves  (xxviii. 
12  ;  cf.  xxix.  2,  16,  etc.). 
Godless  men  set  the  city  in  a  blaze  ; 

But  wise  men  turn  away  wrath  (xxix.  8). 


In  such  sayings  may  be  seen  already  at  work  the 
civic  leaven  which  was  yet  to  leaven  the  world. 

The  moral  outlook  of  Proverbs  is  substantially 
that  of  ancient  Israel.  The  good  are  blessed  with 
all  worldly  prosperity,  honour  and  happiness  ;  the 
wicked  are  involved  in  life-long  misery,  and  swift, 
painful  death.    To  those  who  seek  and  find  her. 


292  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

Wisdom  holds  out  the  most  alluring  hopes  of  future 
glory  :— 

O  happy  the  man  that  findeth  wisdom. 

And  he  that  gaineth  understanding  ; 
For  the  profit  thereof  is  better  than  silver. 

And  her  revenue  richer  than  fine  gold. 
More  precious  is  she  than  corals. 

And  nought  that  men  desire  is  comparable  with  her. 
A  length  of  days  is  in  her  right  hand. 

And  in  her  left  are  riches  and  honour. 
Her  ways  are  ways  of  pleasantness, 

And  all  her  paths  are  peace. 
A  tree  of  life  she  is  to  those  who  grasp  her  ; 

And  happy  are  they  who  hold  her  fast  (iii.  136.)- 

But  for  those  who  despise  her  there  is  nothing  in 
store  but  hopeless  sorrow  and  despair. 

Because  I  have  called,  and  ye  refused, 

I  stretched  out  my  hand,  and  none  regarded— 
Ye  set  at  nought  all  my  counsel, 

And  would  have  none  of  mine  admonition— 
I  too  will  laugh  at  your  calamity, 

I  will  mock  when  trouble  comes  to  you; 
When  like  a  storm  your  trouble  comes. 

And  as  a  whirlwind  your  calamity  (i.  248.). 

The  same  dramatic  contrasts  appear  throughout 
the  Book. 

He  walketh  safely  that  walkeih  uprightly. 

But  he  that  twisteth  his  steps  shall  come  to  grief  (x.  9). 
When  the  tempest  sweepeth,  the  wicked  is  no  more  ; 

But  the  righteous  is  rooted  for  ever  (x.  25). 
A  stronghold  is  Jahweh  to  the  man  that  is  upright. 

But  destruction  to  the  workers  of  wickedness. 
The  righteous  shall  never  be  moved  ; 

But  the  wicked  shall  not  abide  in  the  land  (x.  2gi.,  etc.). 


The  Good  Man  of  the  Proverbs  293 

The  principles  of  God's  rule  are  thus  simple  and 
consistent.  The  sententious  style  of  the  Proverbs 
would  of  itself  forbid  the  high-wrought  struggle 
with  Providence  which  inspires  a  book  like  Job. 
But  even  the  sense  of  Divine  inequality  is  wanting. 
If  Jahweh  chasten  the  good,  it  is  only  the  loving 
discipline  of  a  Father  (iii.  ii).  There  is  no  example 
of  a  good  man  afflicted  to  the  end.  His  light  may 
be  dim  and  flickering  at  times ;    yet 

The  path  of  the  righteous  is  as  shining  light. 
That  shineth  more  and  more  unto  the  perfect  day  (iv.  i8). 

On  the  other  hand,  the  pathway  of  the  wicked  leads 
surely  to  darkness  and  death. 

There  is  no  good  end  for  the  evil  ; 

The  lamp  of  the  wicked  shall  be  put  out  (xxiv.  20). 

We  are  here  still  far  removed  from  the  Gospel  of  a 
Father's  love  that  embraces  both  good  and  evil, 
and  is  actually  made  perfect  amid  human  frailty 
and  sin,  almost  equally  far  removed  from  the  Psalm- 
ists' experience  of  God's  forgiving  mercy.  In  but 
one  proverb  have  we  an  approach  to  the  Christian 
evangel : — 

He  that  coverelh  up  his  sins  wilt  by  no  means  prosper  ; 

But  he  that  confesseth  and  forsaketh  them  shall  obtain   mercy 
(xxviii.  13), 

though  there  is  also  held  out  the  possibility  of 
'  atoning  for  one's  sins  '  by  deeds  of  '  kindness  and 
truth,'  and  thus  through  the  fear  of  Jahweh  escaping 


2  94  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

from  evil  (xvi.  6).  The  whole  temper  of  the  Pro- 
verbs, in  fact,  is  that  of  the  moralist,  for  whom 
character  is  determined  even  from  youth.  '  Be 
not  deceived  ;  God  is  not  mocked  :  for  whatsoever 
a  man  soweth,  that  shall  he  also  reap.'  He  that 
soweth  righteousness,  therefore,  hath  *  a  sure  re- 
ward '  (xi.  i8) ;  but  he  that  soweth  iniquity  '  shall 
reap  a  harvest  of  misery  '  (xxii.  8). 


CHAPTER    XVII 

The  Thoughts  of  the  Wise 

In  even  the  late  sections  of  Proverbs  we  have  found 
no  consciousness  of  discord  in  the  moral  government 
of  the  Universe.  The  path  of  the  righteous  leads 
to  honour  and  glory  ;  that  of  the  wicked  to  misery 
and  death.  Thus  the  wise  man's  persuasions  are 
aimed  directly  at  the  winning  of  the  simple  to  the 
fear  of  the  Lord,  as  the  first  principle  of  wisdom 
and  prosperity.  But  in  another  direction  his 
thoughts  take  wing.  And  in  the  prologue  to 
Proverbs  we  have  the  germ  of  what  among  other 
nations  would  take  the  shape  of  speculative  philo- 
sophy. 

As  has  been  noted,  the  wisdom  of  Hebrew  sages 
is  practical  moral  inspiration — ^that  by  which  the 
good  man  moulds  his  conduct.  Thus  wisdom  is 
the  hidden  source  of  all  that  is  worthy  in  life. 
Wisdom  is  likewise  the  vital  spirit  of  all  just  govern- 
ment. 

By  me  kings  reign, 

A  nd  rulers  determine  justice  ; 
By  me  princes  rule. 

And  nobles  govern  the  earth  (viii.  isf.). 


296  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

And  all  this  because  wisdom  is  the  principle  on 
which  God  Himself  based  the  Universe. 


Jahweh  by  wisdom  founded  the  earth. 

By  understanding  established  the  heavens  ; 

By  His  knowledge  the  abysses  were  broken  up. 
And  the  skies  drop  down  the  dew  (iii.  igf.). 


The  wisdom  that  illumines  the  lives  of  the  gooa  is 
thus  a  reflection  of  the  full-orbed  wisdom  of  God. 
But  as  the  Hebrew  mind  avoided  abstractions,  she 
is  represented  as  a  fair  virgin,  the  counterpart  to 
Madam  Folly,  with  her  house  and  table  furnished 
and  provided  with  all  good  things,  which  she  invites 
the  sons  of  men  to  come  and  enjoy,  pointing  the 
appeal  with  a  glowing  revelation  of  her  intimacy 
with  the  Eternal  • — 


Jahweh  formed  me  first  of  His  creation. 

Before  all  His  works  of  old. 
In  the  earliest  ages  was  I  fashioned. 

Even  from  the  beginning,  before  the  earth. 
When  there  were  no  depths  was  I  brought  forth. 

When  there  were  no  fountains  brimming  with  water. 
Before  the  mountains  were  sunk  in  their  bases, 

Before  the  hills  was  I  brought  forth — 
Or  ever  He  had  made  the  earth  and  the  fields. 

Or  the  first  clods  of  the  world. 
When  He  established  the  heavens  I  was  there. 

When  He  drew  the  circle  over  the  abyss  ; 
When  He  made  firm  the  skies  above. 

And  set  fast  the  fountains  of  the  deep  ; 


The  Thoughts  of  the  Wise     297 

When  He  gave  the  sea  its  bounds} 

And  fixed  the  foundations  of  the  eayth, 
Then  was  I  by  Him  as  a  fosteychild,* 

And  daily  was  I  His  delight. 
As  I  played  continually  before  His  eyes. 

Played  o'er  all  the  habitable  world. 
So  now,  my  children,  hearken  unto  me, 

Receive  my  instruction,  and  be  wise. 
For  happy  is  the  man  that  heareth  me, 

Happy  are  those  that  keep  my  ways,* 
Watching  daily  at  my  gates. 

And  waiting  at  my  door-posts. 
For  he  that  findeth  me  findeth  life. 

And  winneth  favour  from  Jahweh  ; 
But  he  that  misseth  me  wrongeth  himself — 

All  that  hate  me  love  death  (viii.  22ff.). 


In  this  majestic  conception  of  Wisdom  it  seems 
hardly  possible  to  deny  the  fertilizing  influence  of 
Greek  thought.  Yet  the  picture  is  Hebrew  in  its 
essence.  Wisdom  is  no  archetypal  hypostasis 
emanating  from  the  Divine.  She  is  still  a  true 
impersonation  of  a  moral  quality,  endowed  with 
life  by  the   One   Eternal   Being,  whose  place   in 


^  The  commandment  laid  upon  the  sea  is  a  redundance  which 
mars  the  parallelism  of  the  piece  (cf.  LXX). 

•  I  have  here  without  hesitation  followed  Aquila  in  reading  jWX, 
ward,  or  foster-child,  the  subsequent  verses  demanding  such  an 
idea.  With  the  figure  of  Wisdom  playing  before  Jahweh  we  may 
compare  Heraclitus'  description  of  the  world-creating  spirit  as 
a  child  playing  at  draughts  (frag.  79). 

'  The  closing  phrases  of  vv.  31  and  33  have  been  omitted  as 
redundances,  and  v.  ^zb  placed  after  34a  (with  LXX). 


298  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

creation  she  nowhere  usurps.  She  is  merely  by 
Him  while  He  carries  through  His  work,  learning 
of  Him,  and  enjoying  His  affection,  that  she  may 
teach  mankind  the  ways  of  wisdom  and  peace. 
And  from  heaven  she  easily  descends  to  the  streets 
and  market-places  of  common  life,  to  invite  the 
simple  to  her  banquet  (ix.  iff.).  The  distinctively 
ethical  character  of  Wisdom  is  equally  evident  in 
the  great  Song  of  Praise  in  Ecclesiasticus,  where 
Wisdom  is  ultimately  identified  with  the  Law  of 
Moses  which  found  its  resting-place  and  seat  oi 
authority  in  Israel : — 

I  came  forth  from  the  mouth  of  the  Most  High, 

And  like  a  cloud  I  covered  the  earth  ; 
I  had  my  dwelling  in  the  high  places, 

And  my  throne  was  in  the  pillar  of  cloud  ; 
I  alone  compassed  the  circuit  of  heaven. 

And  walked  in  the  depth  of  the  abysses. 
In  the  waves  of  the  sea,  and  through  all  the  earth  ; 

And  in  every  people  and  nation  I  got  me  a  possession. 
With  all  these  I  sought  for  a  resting-place  : 

'  In  whose  lot  shall  I  find  a  lodging  ?  ' 
Then  the  Creator  of  all  commanded  me. 

Even  He  that  formed  me  pitched  my  tent. 
And  said,  '  In  Jacob  be  thy  dwelling. 

And  in  Israel  thine  inheritance.' 
In  the  beginning,  before  the  world.  He  fashioned  me  ; 

And  to  all  eternity  shall  I  fail  not. 
In  the  holy  tabernacle  I  ministered  before  Him, 

And  thus  was  I  established  in  Zion  ; 
Yea,  in  the  beloved  city  He  gave  me  a  resting-place. 

And  in  Jerusalem  was  my  dominion. 


The  Thoughts  of  the  Wise     299 

All  this  is  the  book  of  the  covenant  of  God  Most  High, 
Even  the  law  that  Moses  commanded 
For  an  inheritance  to  the  congregations  of  Jacob  (xxiv.  3fl.)  .* 

A  decided  advance  is  evident  in  the  Wisdom  of 
Solomon.  Here  the  concrete  imagination  of  Israel 
has  been  caught  up  in  the  full  sweep  of  Greek 
influence.  And  we  seem  to  be  actually  moving 
within  the  inner  circle  of  neo-Platonist  speculation. 

All  things  that  are  either  hidden  or  manifest  I  know; 

for  Wisdom,  the  artificer  of  all  things,  taught  me 
For  in  her  is  a  spirit  intelligent,  holy, 

only-begotten,  manifold,  subtle, 

mobile,  pure,  undefiled, 

clear,  inviolable,  loving  the  good,  quick, 

unrestrained,  active  in  good,  a  lover  of  men, 

steadfast,  sure,  free  from  care, 

all-powerful,  all-seeing, 

permeating  all  intelligent,  pure,  and  subtlest  of  spirits. 
For  wisdom  is  more  mobile  than  any  motion; 

she  penetrates  and  permeates  all  things  by  reason  of  her  purity. 
For  she  is  a  breath  of  the  power  of  God, 

and  a  pure  effluence  of  the  glory  of  the  Almighty  ; 

therefore  can  no  impure  thing  insinuate  itself  within  her. 
For  she  is  an  effulgence  of  the  everlasting  light, 

and  an  unstained  mirror  of  the  power  of  God, 

and  image  of  His  goodness. 
Though  but  one,  she  can  do  all  things  ; 

and  while  remaining  within  herself,  she  maheth  all  things  new, 

and  in  all  ages,  entering  into  holy  souls, 

she  maketh  them  friends  of  God  and  prophets  ; 

for  God  loveth  none  but  those  that  dwell  with  wisdom. 


*  Unfortunately  the  original  Hebrew  of  this  section  has  not 
yet  been  recovered.  The  Greek  appears,  however,  to  be  a  su£&- 
ciently  exact  reproduction  of  the  original. 


300  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

For  she  is  more  beautiful  than  the  sun, 
and  above  all  the  order  of  the  stars; 
if  compared  with  light  itself,  she  is  found  before  it, 
for  night  follows  the  light, 
but  no  evil  thing  can  prevail  against  wisdom  (vii.  22 ff.). 

This  gradual  blending  of  Hebrew  wisdom  with 
Greek  idealism — a  process  which  reaches  its  final 
result  in  Philo's  doctrine  of  the  Logos — is  of  pro- 
found significance  in  the  history  of  religion.  The 
Greek  thinkers,  in  their  own  brilliant  way,  were 
feeling  after  God.  But  as  they  approached  Him 
mainly  by  intellectual  speculation,  and  conceived 
Him  in  consequence  as  pure  rational  Being,  He 
remained  to  the  end,  as  Plato  says,  '  difficult  to 
find,  and,  when  found,  impossible  to  impart  to  all.' 
The  Platonic  ideas  were,  indeed,  a  bridge  to  the 
Divine,  but  a  bridge  by  which  only  the  enlightened 
could  pass.  To  the  Hebrew  wise  man,  on  the 
other  hand,  God  was  not  the  end  of  a  speculative 
process,  but  the  first  principle  of  thought,  the  axiom 
from  which  all  their  reasoning  started.  Hebrew 
wisdom  was,  in  fact,  the  explication  of  the  idea  of 
God,  as  known  from  the  revelation  He  had  made 
of  Himself,  and  the  actual  experience  of  religious 
life.  Thus  wisdom  remained  always  in  vital  con- 
tact with  practical  faith.  Only  as  the  sense  of 
God's  immeasurable  greatness  dawned  upon  the 
imagination  of  the  wise,  they  too  found  it  increas- 
ingly difficult  to  bring  God  down  to  the  planes  of 


The  Thoughts  of  the  Wise     301 

human  life.  The  need  for  some  Mediator  between 
the  transcendent  God  ot  heaven  and  His  weak  and 
ignorant  children  on  earth  became  ever  more 
keenly  felt.  The  speculative  conceptions  of  Wisdom 
in  some  measure  supplied  the  need.  But  if  God 
were  to  be  known  as  He  really  is,  He  must  manifest 
Himself  through  a  more  personal  Mediator,  In 
this  respect  also  Jesus  Christ  '  fulfilled  '  the  older 
Revelation.  The  Jews  had  been  asking  for  signs, 
and  the  Greeks  seeking  wisdom  ;  but  to  those  that 
were  called,  both  Jews  and  Greeks,  Christ  was 
now  found  '  the  Power  of  God,  and  the  Wisdom  of 
God.'  In  the  very  words  of  the  Wisdom  of  Solomon, 
He  was  the  personal  *  effulgence  '  of  the  Divine 
glory  (Heb.  i.  3).  Even  the  Logos  doctrine  of 
Philo  was  baptized  into  the  new  Name,  In  Jesus 
of  Nazareth  the  Logos  took  flesh,  and  '  tabernacled 
among  men,'  revealing  unto  them  in  all  its  purity 
the  glory  which  the  wise  men  of  Israel  had  seen  but 
in  image  and  symbol — '  glory  as  of  the  only  be- 
gotten of  the  Father '  (John  i.  14).  But  it  is  not 
in  the  Johannine  writings  alone  that  we  trace  the 
influence  of  Philonic  speculation.  The  mystical 
piety  of  the  Odes  of  Solomon  is  equally  touched 
with  this  spirit.  The  saints  of  God  are  here  too 
*  penetrated  by  the  Word,'  which  is  to  them  both 
Truth  and  Love  ;  the  Lord  is  the  '  mirror  '  in  which 
the  beauty  of  God's  face  may  be  seen,  and  which 


30  2  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

likewise  reflects  His  glory  into  human  hearts  and 
lives  (xii.  gff. ;  xiii.  iff. ;  xvi.  gff. ;  etc.). 

In  other  parts  of  the  Old  Testament  there  is  a 
decided  protest  against  all  such  gnostic  tendencies. 
The  most  brilliant  poetic  expression  is  given  to 
this  feeling  in  the  Song  of  Wisdom  incorporated 
in  the  Book  of  Job  (ch.  xxviii.).  The  poet  has 
sought  wisdom  in  the  depths  of  the  earth,  where 
miners  dig  for  silver  and  gold  ;  in  the  heights  of 
heaven,  whither  the  eagles  soar  in  flight  ;  and  in 
the  desert  places,  where  the  proud  beasts  roam  in 
solitary  majesty.  But  nowhere  is  wisdom  to  be 
found  of  man.  Only  God  knows  her  dwelling- 
place.  And  even  from  Him  was  her  face  at  first 
concealed.  For  wisdom  is  no  longer  the  associate 
and  '  ward  '  of  the  Almighty,  still  less  the  Mediator 
of  His  will  to  men.  She  dwells  alone  in  her  glory, 
fulfilling  her  own  ends,  and  nowhere  entering  into 
the  purposes  of  God  with  men.  He  discovered 
her  when  He  founded  the  earth,  and  set  its  laws  in 
order,  thus  exposing  the  hidden  mysteries  of  things. 
But  He  has  no  thought  of  revealing  the  secret  to 
mortals. 

Wisdom — whence  cometh  it. 
And  where  is  the  place  of  intelligence  ?  ' 

For  silver  there  is  a  mine, 

And  for  gold  a  place  to  refine  it  ; 

*  I  have  followed  Duhm  in  inserting  here,  and  before  v.  7, 
the  opening  note  of  the  remaining  stanzas.  On  other  changes, 
cf.  Kittel, 


The  Thoughts  of  the  Wise    303 

Iron  is  drawn  from  the  dust. 

And  the  stone  is  molten  to  brass. 
Man  pierceth  the  dark  to  its  bounds. 

And  searcheth  for  stones  through  the  murk. 
He  breaketh  a  shaft  underground. 

Where  they  hang  and  swing  upon  ropes. 
The  earth — from  which  cometh  bread — 

Is  upheaved  below  as  by  fire. 
Its  stones  are  where  sapphires  are  found. 

And  the  dust  thereof  yieldeth  gold. 

But  wisdom — whence  cometh  it. 

And  where  is  the  place  of  intelligence  ? 
No  eagle  knoweth  its  path. 

The  vulture's  eye  hath  not  seen  it. 
The  proud  beasts  have  nowhere  trodden  it. 

Nor  the  fearsome  lion  passed  over. 
With  his  hand  man  graspeth  the  flint  rock  ; 

From  their  roots  he  upturneth  the  mountains. 
Through  the  rocks  he  cutteth  channels  ; 

He  exploreth  the  springs  of  the  rivers. 
All  that  is  precious  he  seeth. 

And  the  secrets  he  bringeth  to  light  ; 
For  he  looks  to  the  ends  of  the  earth — 

Scans  all  things  under  the  heaven. 

But  wisdom — whence  cometh  it. 

And  where  is  the  place  of  intelligence  ? 
No  man  knoweth  its  way, 

'Tis  not  found  in  the  land  of  the  living. 
The  deep  saith,  'It  is  not  in  me,' 

And  the  sea  saith,  '  Not  with  me.* 
No  gold  can  be  given  for  wisdom. 

Nor  silver  weighed  as  its  price. 
No  gold  of  Ophir  can  buy  it. 

No  precious  onyx,  or  sapphire. 
No  gold  or  glass  is  its  equal. 

Nor  jewels  of  gold  its  exchange. 
No  crystal  or  pearls  can  be  thought  of ; 
Yea,  far  beyond  corals  is  wisdom. 


304  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

But  wisdom — whence  comeih  it, 

And  where  is  the  place  of  intelligence  ? 
It  is  kid  from  the  eyes  of  all  creatures, 

And  concealed  from  the  fowls  of  the  air, 
Abaddon  and  Death  acknowledge  : 

'  But  a  rumour  thereof  have  we  heard.' 
God  alone  hath  perceived  the  way  to  it. 

He  knoweth  the  place  thereof, — 
Even  He  that  made  weights  for  the  wind. 

And  meted  the  waters  by  measure. 
When  He  made  a  law  for  the  rain. 

And  a  way  for  the  flash  of  the  thunders. 
Then  did  He  see  it,  and  mark  it — 

He  established,  and  searched  it  out. 

A  very  different  accent  is  heard  in  the  '  words 
of  Agur,  the  son  of  Jakeh  '  (Prov.  xxx.).  He,  too, 
has  applied  his  mind  to  the  facts  of  life.  He  has 
observed  and  studied,  and  pondered  over  the 
problems  of  the  world.  Like  the  daring  spirit  who 
saw  Wisdom  playing  by  the  side  of  the  Almighty, 
he  has  even  tried  to  ascend  to  heaven,  and  pene- 
trate the  veil  that  enshrouds  the  presence  of  God. 
But  he  falls  back  exhausted.  With  all  his  strivings, 
he  cannot  grasp  the  Divine.  He  feels  God's  pres- 
ence, indeed,  in  all  the  movements  of  Nature.  For 
it  is  He  that  ranges  over  the  Universe,  controlling 
all  things  in  heaven  and  earth,  gathering  up  the 
wind  in  His  fists,  and  in  due  season  sending  it  loose 
again,  wrapping  the  waters  in  His  cloak  (a  bold 
image  for  the  clouds),  to  pour  them  forth  as  rain, 
and  ordaining  the  complex  issues  of  life.     But  he 


The  Thoughts  of  the  Wise     305 

cannot  '  name  '  Him  ;  still  less  can  he  tell  His 
*  son's  '  name.  He  can  neither  raise  his  spirit  up 
to  God,  nor  find  any  personal  Mediator,  in  whom 
he  can  assuredly  trace  the  lineaments  of  His  glory. 

/  am  wearied,  O  God,  I  am  wearied  ; 

I  am  altogether  spent. 
I  am  hut  a  brute,  and  no  man  ; 

I  have  nought  of  human  intelligence. 
No  wisdom  have  I  learned. 

No  knowledge  I  have  of  the  Holy  One. 
Who  is  He  that  hath  mounted  to  heaven,  and  come  down, 

That  hath  gathered  the  wind  in  His  fists. 
The  waters  hath  wrapped  in  His  cloak. 

And  established  all  ends  of  the  earth  ? 
What  is  His  name,  and  His  son's  name. 

If  thott  dost  know?  (xxx.  iff.). 

The  speculative  knowledge  of  God  which  seemed 
so  sure  to  other  thinkers  here  crumbles  into  dust. 
In  Agur's  wearied  utterances  we  might  well  be  read- 
ing the  reflections  of  a  modern  agnostic.  And  his 
general  view  of  life  is  in  perfect  harmony  with  his 
creed.  This  too  is  all  a  mystery — a  riddle  that 
cannot  be  read.  There  are  three  things,  yea  four, 
that  never  can  be  satisfied  :  the  grave  and  the  barren 
womb,  the  desert  soil  and  the  devouring  flame ; 
three  things,  yea  four,  that  are  too  wonderful  for 
him  to  follow  :  the  eagle  beating  its  way  through  the 
air,  the  serpent  gliding  through  the  clefts  of  the  rock, 
the  ship  storm-tossed  and  buffeted,  yet  ever  master- 
ing the  waves,  and  the  insinuating,  invincible  power 
of  love  iyv.  I5ff.).     Every  other  aspect  of  life  leads 

20 


3o6  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

but  to  the  same  conclusion — ^that  the  problem  is  in- 
soluble. And  the  only  practical  counsel  that  emerges 
from  the  general  uncertainty  is  the  easy,  unambitious 
*  golden  mean  ' : 

But  two  things  I  ask  of  Thee, 

Withhold  them  not  before  I  die  3 
Vanity  and  lies  put  far  from  me  ; 

Give  me  neither  poverty  nor  riches. 

Feed  me  with  food  sufficient  for  my  wants  {vv.  $1.). 

Were  we  here  moving  in  the  realm  of  pure  Greek 
thought,  this  would  doubtless  have  been  Agur's 
whole  philosophy  of  life.  But  the  Hebrew  agnostic 
could  not  so  easily  cut  himself  off  from  his  people's 
faith.  For  to  the  Hebrews,  as  we  have  seen,  faith 
was  no  final  result  of  philosophical  speculation,  but 
the  root  from  which  all  that  was  noble  and  true  alike 
in  thought  and  conduct  sprung.  Thus,  tested  and 
tried  amid  the  storms  of  centuries,  it  still  held  fast 
when  other  supports  of  life  had  gone.  The  agnosti- 
cism of  Agur  is  anything  but  the  '  scathing  criticism 
of  the  theology  of  his  day,  and  sweeping  scepticism 
as  to  every  form  of  revealed  religion,'  that  the  cava- 
lier modem  litUrateur  has  found  in  it.*  His  words 
are  rather  the  subdued  confessions  of  the  restless 
thinker  who  has  been  baffled  in  his  quest  of  God,  for 
he  has  found  this  knowledge  too  wonderful  for  him, 
too  high  to  attain  unto.     He  does  not  deny  the 

*  Dillon,  Sceptics  of  the  Old  Testament,  p.  133. 


The  Thoughts  of  the  Wise    307 

possibility  of  more  fortunate  or  pure-hearted  natures 
winning  the  prize  he  has  failed  to  grasp.  For  his 
agnosticism  never  touches  the  existence  of  God 
Himself.  However  unable  man  may  be  to  reach  a 
satisfying  knowledge  of  the  Divine,  He  remains  the 
great  energizing  Force  behind  all  the  phenomena  of 
Nature.  And  to  Agur  this  Divine  presence  is  not  the 
inscrutable  First  Cause  of  the  modern  agnostic.  He 
is  a  real  personal  Being,  with  a  Name,  if  only  the 
sons  of  men  could  learn  it !  But  there  is  yet  more 
positive  faith  in  the  words  of  Agur.  If  God  be  in- 
accessible even  to  the  boldest  flights  of  speculative 
reason.  He  has  nevertheless  unveiled  His  mind  and 
will  through  the  visions  of  prophet  and  Psalmist. 
And  on  this  revelation  Agur  finds  a  resting-place 
amid  the  surging  waters  of  his  doubt.  Even  if  the 
brave  notes  of  Ps.  xviii.  30, 

Every  word  of  God  is  tried  ; 

He  is  a  shield  unto  them  that  trust  Hirri, 

be  a  later  insertion  in  the  '  words  of  Agur  '  {vv.  5!.), 
the  sequel  shows  how  God  was  still  his  refuge  and 
strength.  The  request  that  he  be  kept  true  to  the 
golden  mean  is  a  prayer  addressed  to  Heaven.  And 
the  reason  explicitly  given  is  lest  earthly  riches  and 
enjoyments  tempt  him  to  deny  Jahweh,  or  on  the 
other  hand  stress  of  poverty  lead  him  to  steal  his 
neighbour's  goods,  and  thus  '  profane  the  name  of 
his  God '  {v.  9). 


3o8  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

Thus,  as  wisdom  based  her  speculations  on  God, 
so  does  the  fear  of  God  remain  the  sure  ground  of 
the  wise  man's  confidence  to  the  end.  His  efforts 
to  penetrate  the  final  mysteries  may  drive  him  back 
bewildered  on  the  thought  of  his  own  utter  ignorance. 
Yet  God  is  God  for  ever.  And  in  Him  there  is  sal- 
vation. The  mind  is,  no  doubt,  left  with  an  un- 
solved antinomy.  But  the  very  strength  with  which 
faith  is  maintained  in  the  face  of  difficulty  and  doubt 
is  the  prophecy  of  its  ultimate  victory.  In  darkness 
itself  the  light  is  broadening  '  unto  the  perfect  day.' 


CHAPTER    XVIII 

The  Song  of  Songs 

The  scanty  survivals  of  the  old  folk-poetry  of  Israel 
were  found  strangely  lacking  in  love-songs.  It  can 
hardly  be  doubted,  however,  that  here,  too,  the 
heart -strings  of  man  and  maiden  were  touched  by 
the  golden  bow  to  sweetest  music.  In  the  more 
literary  age  the  tender  grace  of  human  affection  gave 
even  to  the  quiet  wisdom  of  Proverbs  the  true  feeling 
of  poetry.  But  far  richer  strains  are  drawn  forth 
in  the  series  of  exquisite  lyrics  entitled  shir  hash- 
shirim,  '  the  Song  of  Songs,'  that  is,  the  sweetest  of 
all  songs.  Through  the  whole  Book  there  breathes 
a  fresh  delight  in  Nature,  and  a  joyous  rapture  of 
affection,  that  reminds  one  rather  of  the  idylls  of 
Theocritus  and  the  Greek  Anthologists,  or  the  more 
passionate  love  poetry  of  modern  times,  than  the 
grave  religious  tones  of  Scripture. 

Our  wider  views  of  inspiration  lead  us  to  welcome 
the  presence  of  love-songs  in  the  Canon.  We  may 
even  subscribe  to  Niebuhr's  judgment,  that  '  the 
Bible  would  be  lacking  in  something  if  one  could  not 
find  in  it  expression  for  the  deepest  and  strongest 


80» 


3 1  o  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

sentiments  of  humanity.'  *  But  the  Book  had  its 
struggle  for  admission.  Its  frank  naturalism,  and 
highly  sensuous  imagery,  raised  persistent  suspicion 
against  its  sanctity.  Not  indeed  till  the  Synod  of 
Jamnia  (a.d.  90)  was  the  question  finally  set  at  rest. 
And  even  then  the  prohibition  was  laid  down  that 
no  Jew  must  read  the  Book  unless  he  had  reached 
the  mature  age  of  thirty.  But  having  finally  secured 
its  place  in  the  Scriptures,  the  Song  speedily  cap- 
tured the  hearts  of  the  most  devout.  The  famous 
Rabbi  Akiba,  writing  about  the  year  120,  says,  '  The 
whole  world  does  not  outweigh  the  day  on  which  the 
Song  of  Songs  was  given  to  Israel ;  all  the  Writings 
are  holy,  but  the  Song  is  the  holiest  of  all.'  And  he 
pronounces  a  solemn  anathema  against  any  who 
should  dare  to  sing  the  Song  at  banquets,  as  was 
apparently  still  done,  in  the  manner  of  secular  songs  : 
'  Whosoever  sings  from  the  Song  of  Songs  in  the 
wine-houses,  making  it  a  common  song,  shall  have 
no  share  in  the  world  to  come.'  The  Song  was  thus 
no  longer  read  by  orthodox  Jews  as  a  human  love- 
song,  but  as  a  profound  allegory  of  spiritual  love, 
Solomon  being  identified  with  God,  and  the  beloved 
with  the  Jewish  people  He  had  chosen  for  His  own, 
and  the  sweet  interchanges  of  affection  being  trans- 
lated into  passionate  effusions  of  the  heart  of  God 
and  His  people  in  mutual  love.  In  the  Targum  and 
*  Renan,  Song  of  Songs,  E.T„  p.  106. 


The  Song  of  Songs       311 

Midrash  Shir  rabba  this  mystical  interpretation  of 
the  Song  blossoms  into  wonderful  luxuriance.  And 
from  the  Synagogue  it  passed  to  the  Christian 
Church,  where  it  enjoyed  still  greater  vogue.  Traces 
of  the  influence  of  the  Book  may  be  noted  as  early 
as  the  Odes  of  Solomon.^  But  it  was  Origen  who 
gave  the  decisive  impulse  to  allegorization.  In  his 
ten-volumed  Commentary  on  the  Song  he  is  said  to 
have  surpassed  even  himself.  He  recognized  the 
literal  significance  of  the  Book  as  an  epithalamium,  or 
marriage  drama ;  but  his  real  strength  he  gave  to 
the  elucidation  of  its  mystical  sense  as  a  true  love- 
song  of  Christ  and  the  soul  He  had  redeemed,  or  of 
Christ  and  His  Church.  ^  Reading  the  Book  in  this 
sense,  devout  natures,  whose  souls  were  starved  by 
the  hard,  dry  bones  of  Scholasticism,  found  in  the 
warm  feeling  of  the  Song  the  refreshment  and  nurture 
their  spirits  craved  for.  The  mystics  naturally 
revelled  in  its  fresh  welling  fountains  of  emotion. 
Saint  Bernard  of  Clairvaux  has  no  fewer  than  eighty- 
six  sermons  on  the  first  two  chapters  of  the  Song. 
And  its  influence  is  transparent  in  his  own  spiritual 
hymns.  But  even  so  sternly  logical  a  thinker  as 
Thomas  Aquinas  felt  the  spell  of  the  Book.  In  his 
last  illness,  uplifted  by  visions  of  God's  love  that 

»  Odes,  iii.  sff. 

•  Cf.  Riedel,  Die  Ausle^ung  des  Hoheliedes  in  dev  jiidischen 
Cemeinde  und  der  Griechischen  Kirche. 


312  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

made  all  he  had  written  on  scholastic  theology  seem 
as  of  no  account,  he  is  said  to  have  turned  lovingly 
to  the  Song,  on  which  he  actually  dictated  a  few 
chapters  of  Commentary.  Among  Protestants  also 
mystical  spirits  have  found  in  the  warm  outpourings 
of  Canticles  the  purest  expression  of  their  love  for 
the  Redeemer.  Works  like  Samuel  Rutherford's 
Letters  are  steeped  in  the  feeling  of  the  Song.  And 
till  recent  times  it  was  for  many  devout  Evangelicals 
almost  the  heart  of  the  Bible.* 

These  mystical  interpretations  of  the  Song  are 
not  so  unnatural  as  they  appear  to  our  modern  taste. 
God  is  the  fountain  of  all  love.  And  that  human 
love  which  is  stronger  than  death  itself  does  enable 
us  to  understand  and  express  something,  at  least, 
of  the  love  of  God  that  passeth  understanding.  In 
the  imaginative  East  the  lower  love  glided  easily 
into  the  higher.  Persian  love-poetry,  for  example, 
has  been  found  a  real  channel  of  mystical  feeling. 
And  on  several  occasions  the  poets  and  prophets  of 
the  Old  Testament  use  human  love  as  a  symbol  or 
parable  of  God's.    Thus  Hosea  can  boldly  transfer 

•  In  the  vestry  of  the  McCheyne  Memorial  Church,  Dundee, 
may  be  seen  the  Pulpit  Bible  of  the  Scottish  saint,  Robert  Murray 
McCheyne.  It  is  quite  black  at  the  Song  of  Songs  and  the  earlier 
chapters  of  Romans ;  the  rest  is  comparatively  white.  Mc- 
Cheyne's  faith  evidently  supported  itself  on  the  solid  substance 
of  Romans  ;  while  his  warm  love  for  his  Saviour  luxuriated  in  the 
glowing  passion  of  the  Song. 


The  Song  of  Songs       313 

to  God  his  own  heart-broken  affection  for  his  poor, 
sinful  wife,  Gomer.  In  the  New  Testament,  too, 
the  love  of  Christ  is  frequently  compared  with  the 
love  of  the  bridegroom  for  his  bride.  But  in  its 
original  sense,  at  all  events,  the  Song  is  one  of  purely 
human  affection.  The  very  fact  that  it  could  be 
sung  by  frivolous  youths  in  the  wine-houses  reveals 
its  essential  character.  It  is  significant,  too,  that 
in  the  New  Testament,  where  all  the  rays  that  stream 
from  the  Old  are  focussed  upon  Christ,  the  Song  is 
nowhere  quoted  or  alluded  to.  And  with  all  the 
rapture  it  inspires,  the  mystical  interpretation  is 
liable  to  gross  extravagance  and  abuse.  The  allegor- 
ists  find  simply  what  they  seek  in  the  Song.  Thus 
the  literature  of  its  interpretation  is  like  a  dense 
jungle  of  luxurious  vegetation,  through  which  no 
clear  path  can  be  traced. 

In  the  ancient  Church  the  only  serious  attempt 
to  read  the  Song  by  its  own  light  was  made  by  Theo- 
dore of  Mopsuestia,  whose  naturalistic  methods 
were  subsequently  condemned  by  Oecumenical 
Council.  Even  the  Reformation  failed  at  first  to 
liberate  the  Book  from  its  allegorical  shackles.  But 
in  the  course  of  the  following  centuries  its  fresh, 
sweet  beauty  made  its  own  impression.  The  Song 
thus  came  to  be  read  as  a  simple  drama  of  love  trium- 
phant in  marriage.  Origen's  suggestion  of  the 
ei>ithalamium  was  taken  up  by  Bossuet  and  Lowth, 


314  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

who  found  in  it  the  dramatic  celebration  of  Solo- 
mon's nuptials  with  the  daughter  of  Pharaoh  (cf. 
I  Kings  iii.  i) ,  The  pastoral  atmosphere  of  the  piece 
appealed  strongly  to  the  artistic  taste  of  an  age 
whose  elites  delighted  to  play  the  roles  of  the  Gentle 
Shepherd  and  Shepherdess.  But  the  more  natural 
feeling  of  the  Romantic  age  revolted  against  such 
artifice.  In  his  charming  Lieder  der  Liehe :  die 
dltesten  und  schonsten  aus  dem  Morgenlande  (1778), 
Herder,  the  prophet  of  Romanticism,  with  remark- 
able prescience  of  the  trend  of  recent  criticism,  read 
the  Book  as  a  collection  of  forty-four  independent 
love-songs,  held  together  '  by  no  closer  link  than 
that  of  a  bunch  of  fine  pearls  on  one  string,'  but  all 
of  them  most  worthy  of  their  place  in  the  Bible,  as 
the  sweetest  and  purest  expressions  in  ancient  litera- 
ture of  the  most  Godlike  of  the  emotions.^  And 
where  the  dramatic  theory  was  still  adhered  to,  a 
new  character  was  introduced  in  the  person  of  the 
Shulamite's  country  lover,  to  whom  her  heart 
remained  true  amid  all  the  blandishments  of  her 
royal  wooer,  who  sought  to  win  her  as  one  of  the 
prizes  of  his  harem. 

The  latter  view,  which  is  associated  chiefly  with 
the  name  of  Ewald,  has  gained  wide  acceptance 
among  scholars.  For  a  full  generation  it  virtu- 
ally  held  the   field,  and   is  still  maintained,  with 

1  Herder,  Weyke,  VIII.  541,  554ff. 


The  Song  of  Songs       315 

modifications,  in  Driver's  Introduction  and  Roth- 
stein's  article  in  the  Dictionary  of  the  Bible.  Of 
all  the  modern  theories,  it  offers  the  noblest 
interpretation  of  the  Song  as  a  drama  of  pure  love 
tried  and  proved  in  the  furnace  of  temptation.  But 
grave  difficulties  confront  the  dramatic  theory  in  all 
its  forms.  The  plot  is  anything  but  self-evident. 
It  is  rather  read  into  the  text  than  suggested  by  the 
sequence  of  the  whole.  The  characters  are  elusive  ; 
the  scenes  continually  shift ;  and  some  of  them  be- 
long to  the  realm  of  dream-land.  Moreover,  there 
is  no  definite  progress  in  the  plot — no  real  dramatic 
movement  or  denouement.  The  great  panegyric 
on  love  (viii.  6)  may  no  doubt  be  regarded  as  the 
climax  of  the  Song.  But  as  the  consummation  of 
love  in  marriage  is  already  presupposed  in  the  lus- 
cious odes  i.  2ff.,  I2ff. ;  ii.  iff. ;  iii.  iff.,  etc.,  the  denoue- 
ment is  purely  imaginary.  The  Song  appears,  in 
fact,  to  celebrate  various  phases  of  love,  not  one 
closely-knit  romance. 

Of  recent  years  scholars  have  looked  increas- 
ingly to  the  East  for  light  on  the  baffling  prob- 
lem of  the  piece.  This  way  of  approach  was  already 
indicated  by  Renan,  who  referred  to  Schefer's 
accounts  of  wedding  festivities  at  Damietta  and  other 
districts  of  Syria,  and  suggested  that  the  Song  was 
an  old  Palestinian  wedding  play,  in  which  the  young 
men  of  the  village  acted  the  part  of  Solomon's  body- 


3 1 6  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

guard,  while  the  maidens  impersonated  '  the  daugh- 
ters of  Jerusalem,'  the  play  being  arranged  in  acts 
designed  for  separate  days  of  the  wedding  fete} 
The  suggestion  was  thrown  out  afresh  in  Wetzstein's 
famous  article  on  the  '  Syrian  Threshing-board ' 
(1873),  where  the  curious  revelries  of  the  marriage  or 
'  king's  week '  were  described  in  detail,  and  a  modern 
specimen  of  the  wasf,  or  sword-song  in  honour  of 
bride  and  bridegroom,  offered  for  comparison  with 
the  wasfs  of  Canticles  iv.-vii.^  Apart  from  a  brief 
note  by  Stade,  the  article  called  forth  no  comment, 
till  Budde's  enthusiastic  Eureka  in  the  New  World 
(1894),  followed  by  his  detailed  Commentary  in  1898, 
raised  the  suggestion  to  the  dignity  of  a  well-estab- 
lished hypothesis.  According  to  Budde,  the  Song 
is  a  repertoire  of  wasfs  and  other  wedding  songs 
covering  the  seven  days  of  the  '  king's  week,'  and 
having  no  other  link  of  connexion  than  their  common 
praise  of  wedded  love.  Thus  many  difficult  knots 
are  cut.  A  strict  dramatic  unity  in  the  Song  is 
no  longer  required.  The  literary  similarities  of 
the  different  lyrics  are  explained  by  unity  of  feeling 
and  motive.  Above  all,  the  troublesome  names  of 
Solomon  and  the  Shulamite  (the  fair  Abishag) 
become  mere  sobriquets  for  the  '  king  and  queen  ' 
of  the  festal  week.     It  is  true,  neither  Wetzstein 

*  Song  of  Songs,  E.T.,  pp.  62f. 

i  Zeitschrift  fur  Ethnologie,  vol.  v.,  pp.  270S. 


The  Song  of  Songs        317 

nor  Budde  could  point  to  any  such  use  of  royal 
play-names.  But  more  recent  research  in  Arabic 
folk-poetry  has  filled  up  the  gap.  For  in  certain 
texts  published  by  Enno  Littmann  (1902)  popular 
bridegrooms  are  not  merely  likened  to  kings  in  their 
slow,  majestic  march,  but  are  actually  invested  with 
the  title  either  of  the  reigning  Sultan  (Abdul  Hamid) 
or  of  famous  sovereigns  of  old  (Chosrau  and  Nu'- 
man).^  It  can  hardly  be  doubted,  therefore,  that 
Wetzstein  has  led  criticism  along  true  lines  of  in- 
vestigation. Whatever  be  the  ultimate  fate  of 
Budde 's  theory,  the  Song  must  henceforth  be  studied 
in  the  light  of  modern  Syrian  love-poetry. 

But  our  comparisons  must  not  be  confined  to 
marriage  songs.  Dalman  has  brought  to  light  many 
Arabic  wasfs  that  celebrate  the  beauty,  not  of  brides 
alone,  but  of  loved  ones  generally. ^  This  would 
suggest  that  Budde  has  unjustly  narrowed  the 
theme  of  Canticles.  And,  in  reality,  while  various 
parts  of  the  Book  have  a  direct  bearing  on  the  mar- 
riage-rite, the  majority  of  the  songs  are  better 
understood  as  the  effusions  of  a  young  and  ardent, 
fond,  yet  often  heart-sick,  lover.  The  Book  may 
thus  be  regarded  as  a  choice  Anthology  of  ancient 
Hebrew  love  songs,  the  main  part  doubtless  from 

*  Littmann,  Neuarabische  Volkspoesie,  Texts  A IV.  52,  98, 100 
B  I.  31. 

*  Dalman,  Paldstinischer  Diwan,  pp.  xii.,  loofi, 


3 1 8   The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

one  and  the  same  sweet  singer,  and  all  inspired  by  a 
common  sentiment.^  The  Aramaic  colouring  of 
the  whole,  and  the  appearance  of  Persian  and  Greek 
words  like  pardes  (iv.  13)  and  appiryon  (iii.  9),  point 
decisively  to  a  date  in  the  Greek  era,  probably  in 
the  earlier  half  of  the  third  century  B.C.  The  spirit 
of  the  Book  is  fresh  and  sunny.  Its  singers  are  all 
of  the  open  air.  The  choral-like  appearances  of 
the  '  daughters  of  Jerusalem  '  would,  indeed,  sug- 
gest that  the  Book  assumed  its  final  shape  there. 
But  the  general  scenery  is  that  of  the  North,  with 
its  blossoms  reddening  in  the  spring-time,  its  flocks 
of  sheep  swarming  from  Gilead,  its  parks  full  of  all 
pleasant  fruits,  watered  by  '  running  streams  from 
Lebanon,'  and  its  villages  nestling  in  the  bosom  of 
scented  fields  and  vineyards. 

The  Song  opens  with  a  love-dance  in  which  the 
rustic  heroine  expresses  her  ardent  longing  for  the 
favours  of  her  '  king,'  coupled  with  a  modest  apology 
for  her  dark  beauty,  inasmuch  as  the  sun  has  beamed 
too  kindly  on  her  face,  while  she  kept  her  brothers' 
vineyard  (i.  2ff.).  This  is  followed  by  a  tender 
elegy,  in  which,  in  the  guise  of  a  fair  shepherdess, 
she  seeks  the  loved  of  her  soul,  and  is  bidden  to 
follow  him  up  by  the  tracks  of  the  sheep  : — 

*  The  wider  view  is  taken  by  the  most  recent  students  of  the 
Song,  e.g.  Haupt,  Biblische  Liebeslieder,  pp.  xiii.f.  ;  Schmidt, 
Messages  of  the  Poets,  pp.  2253.  ;  and  Wheeler  Robinson  in  the 
new  edition  of  the  Encyclopaedia  Britannica. 


The  Song  of  Songs       319 

i.  7  Tell  me,  thou  loved  of  my  soul. 

Where  thou  tendest  thy  sheep  ;  * 
For  why  should  I  wander  in  vain 
By  the  flocks  of  thy  comrades  ? 

8  '  If  thou  know  not  thy  loved  one's  pastures. 
Thou  fairest  of  women. 
Go  forth  in  the  tracks  of  the  sheep, '^ 
By  the  tents  of  the  herdsmen  ! ' 

And  now,  as  bridegroom  and  bride,  they  pour  their 
endearing  flatteries,  in  true  Oriental  luxuriance  of 
imagination,  into  each  other's  ears. 

g  '  To  a  filly  in  Pharaoh's  chariot, 
My  love,  I  have  likened  thee. 

10  Adorned  are  thy  cheeks  with  spangles. 

With  stringed  jewels  thy  neck. 

11  Spangles  of  gold  will  I  make  thee. 

With  pendants  of  silver.' 

12  While  my  king  reclines  on  his  diwan. 

My  nard  yields  its  fragrance. 

13  y4  scent-bag  of  myrrh  is  my  loved  one. 

Reposing  between  my  breasts. 

14  My  love  is  a  cluster  of  henna-flowers. 

In  the  gardens  of  Engedi. 

15  '  Behold,  thou  art  fair,  my  love  ; 

Thine  eyes  are  as  doves.' 

16  Behold,  thou  art  fair,  my  loved  one  ; 

So  beauteous  thy  form  I 

'  Our  bed  is  spread  in  the  forest  ;  • 
Yea,  green  is  our  couch. 

*  The  two  redundant  phrases,  '  where  thou  makest  them  rest 
at  noon,'  and  '  there  feed  thy  kids,'  have  been  omitted  in  the 
combined  interests  of  sense  and  rhythm. 

*  This  Une  has  been  conjecturally  filled  in  to  complete  the 
parallelism. 


3  20  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

17  The  beams  of  our  house  are  cedars, 
Our  rafters  are  fir.' 

h.  I  /  am  a  rose  of  Sharon, 

A  lily  of  the  valleys, 
2  '  As  a  lily  among  the  thistles 

Is  my  love  among  the  daughters* 

2  As  an  apple-tree  in  the  forest 

Is  my  loved  one  among  the  sons. 
In  his  shadow  I  rest  with  delight, 
And  his  fruit  is  sweet  to  my  taste. 

4  To  the  house  of  wine  hath  he  brought  me. 

The  banner  o'er  which  is  love  ; 

5  He  hath  stayed  me  with  cakes  of  raisins. 

And  with  apples  revived  my  strength.^ 

6  His  left  hand  under  my  head, 

His  right  doth  embrace  me  in  love. 

7  /  adjure  you,  daughters  of  Jerusalem, 

By  the  roes  and  the  hinds  of  the  field. 
That  ye  rouse  not  love,  nor  disturb  it. 
Until  it  be  pleased  to  awake  ! 

From  the  sweet  bliss  of  wedded  love  we  are  carried 
back,  in  an  exquisite  lyric,  to  the  glad  spring  season 
when  youthful  affection  first  awoke  in  the  maiden's 
heart,  and  her  lover  came  to  woo  her  even  in  her 
dreams  by  night. 

8  Hark,  my  beloved  I 

See,  he  comes. 
Leaping  over  the  mountains. 
Skipping  over  the  hills  !  * 


1  The  closing  phrase, '  for  I  am  sick  with  love,'  no  doubt  comes 
from  V.  8. 

*  The  comparison  with  roe  and  fawn  is  prematurely  intro- 
duced from  V,  17, 


The  Song  of  Songs       321 

96  Lo  !  there  he  standeth 
Against  our  wall  I 
I  look  through  the  lattice, 
I  peer  through  the  panes. 

10  Then  answers  my  loved  one. 

And  speaks  to  me  thus  : 
'  Arise,  my  love  ; 
My  fair  one,  come  ! 

11  For,  lo  !  the  winter  is  past. 

The  rain  is  over  and  gone. 
The  flowers  appear  in  the  land,^ 

And  the  voice  of  the  ring-dove  is  heard. 
13  The  fig-tree  ripens  its  fruit. 

And  the  vines  give  forth  their  fragrance. 
Arise,  then,  my  love; 
My  fair  one,  come  ! ' 

A  few  verses  tremulous  with  mutual  affection  (ii. 
I4ff.)  lead  to  another  dreamland  scene,  in  which 
the  love-struck  maiden  goes  boldly  out  to  search  the 
city  streets  for  the  loved  of  her  soul. 

iii.  I  On  my  bed  by  night  I  sought 

The  loved  of  my  soul. 

2  '  /  will  rise  now,  and  range  the  city. 

Its  streets  and  its  squares. 
There  I'll  seek  the  loved  of  my  so:il.' 
I  sought  but  I  found  him  not. 

3  /  found  men  ranging  the  city  ;* 

'  Have  ye  seen  the  loved  of  my  soul  ? ' 

4  Scarce  had  I  parted  from  them, 

When  I  found  the  loved  of  my  soul. 
I  held  him  ;  I  let  him  not  go. 

Till  I  brought  him  home  to  my  mother.' 

*  The  middle  stichos  is  probably  a  mere  variant  to  the  last. 

■  The  scene  with  the  night-rangers  has  been  expanded  by 
features  from  the  similar  scene  in  u.  7. 

•  The  closing  line  of  v.  4  has  been  influenced  by  viii.  2.     Dal- 

21 


32  2    The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

The  brilliant  song  of  Solomon's  palanquin  is  most 
easily  understood  as  an  idealized  representation  of 
the  bridegroom's  procession  on  the  festal  *  board,* 
surrounded  by  his  bodyguard  of  village  youths.  This 
is  followed  by  a  fine  example  of  the  wasf,  or  sword- 
song,  in  which  the  lover  celebrates  the  beauty  of  his 
love  with  a  lavish  display  of  that  sensuous  imagery 
in  which  the  Oriental  delights. 

It  I  Behold,  thou  art  fair,  my  love. 

Thine  eyes  are  as  doves  ; 
Thy  hair  like  a  flock  of  kids, 
That  swarm  down  from  Gilead  ; 

2  Thy  teeth  are  like  shorn  ewes. 
Fresh  from  the  washing, 
All  of  them  ranged  in  pairs, 
And  none  of  them  lacking. 

i  As  a  scarlet  thread  are  thy  lips. 

And  sweet  is  thy  mouth  ; 
Like  a  piece  of  pomegranate  thy  tempi 
Shining  out  through  thy  veil  ; 

4  Thy  neck  like  the  tower  of  David, 

Built  for  an  arsenal, 
With  a  thousand  bucklers  therein. 
All  the  shields  of  the  heroes  ; 

5  Thy  breasts  like  a  pair  of  fawns. 

The  twins  of  a  roe}' 
7  Thou  art  all  of  thee  fair,  my  love- 
No  spot  is  in  thee. 

With  all  this  beauty  the  lover's  heart  is  bewitched, 

man  would  therefore  expunge  the  whole.     But  the  retention  of 
the  nucleus,  at  least,  seems  essential  to  the  sense. 

*  The  following  phrases  of  the  MT.  come  from  another  con* 
text  (ii,  i6f.).     On  other  omissions,  cf.  Kittel, 


The  Song  of  Songs        323 

9  By  one  glance  from  thine  eyes  hast  thou  ravished  me. 
By  one  turn  of  thy  neck  hast  bewitched  me}- 

10  How  sweet  is  thy  love,  my  sister,* 

How  much  better  than  wine  thy  caresses  I 

11  With  honey-drops  trickle  thy  lips. 

And  milk  lies  beneath  thy  tongue. 
Thy  garments  are  fragrant  as  Lebanon, 
Thine  ointments  are  sweeter  than  balsam* 

To  him  she  is  a  garden  full  of  all  precious  fruits, 
*  enclosed  '  but  for  his  enjoyment,  a  '  fountain  of 
living  waters '  sealed  and  preserved  for  himself 
alone  (iv.  I2f¥.).  And  at  her  invitation  he  comes 
eats  and  drinks,  and  is  blessed. 

16  '  Awake,  North  wind. 

And  come,  thou  South  ! 
Blow  on  my  garden. 

That  its  spices  may  spread  ! 
Let  my  loved  one  come  to  his  garden, 

And  eat  of  his  precious  fruits  !' 

V.  I  /  am  come  to  my  garden,  my  sister, 

I  have  gathered  my  myrrh  and  my  balsam  ; 
I  have  eaten  my  comb  with  my  honey, 

I  have  drunk  my  wine  with  my  milk. 
Come,  friends,  eat  and  drink, 

Yea,  drink  ye  deep  draughts  of  love  ! 


^  The  Hebrew  text  here  is  somewhat  redundant.  In  the 
translation  I  have  sought  to  preserve  the  essential  ideas. 

*  The  word  '  sister '  is  here  an  endearing  name  for  the  loved 
one.  In  Egyptian  love-poetry  examples  of  the  same  usage  are 
found. 

*  In  the  Hebrew  text  the  closing  stichos  appears  in  v.  lo  ;  but 
there  it  is  quite  out  of  place,  while  v.  1 1  lacks  its  necessary  parallel- 
ism.    The  transposition  of  the  phrase  restores  order  to  the  verses 


324  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

A  still  more  moving  night-scene,  in  which  the 
fond  maiden  returns  home  weary  and  wounded  from 
a  vain  quest  of  her  lover,  adjuring  the  '  daughters  of 
Jerusalem,'  if  they  find  him,  to  tell  him  how  '  sick 
of  love  '  she  is  {vv.  2ff.),  introduces  us  to  a  wasf  in 
praise  of  the  beloved  one's  beauty,  in  the  same  ful- 
some style  as  its  fellow  in  ch.  iv. 

10  My  beloved  is  radiant  and  ruddy. 

The  chief  of  ten  thousand  : 

11  His  head  is  as  gold  most  pure, 

His  locks  like  the  raven.^ 

12  His  eyes  are  like  doves 

By  brooks  of  water. 
Washed  as  with  milk, 
Perched  by  the  floods. 

13  His  cheeks  are  like  beds  of  balsam. 

Like  banks  of  sweet  herbs  ; 
His  lips  are  as  lilies. 
Dripping  with  myrrh. 

14  His  hands  are  like  tapers  of  gold. 

Finished  with  topaz  ; 
His  belly  an  ivory  plate, 
O'erlaid  with  sapphires. 

15  His  legs  are  as  pillars  of  marble 

Set  on  sockets  of  gold  ; 
His  form  is  like  Lebanon, 
Lordly  as  cedars. 

16  His  mouth  is  most  sweet- 

He  is  all  of  him  lovely. 
This  is  my  loved  one,  my  friend, 
Ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem. 

1  The  two  redundant  words  nilhtf'  DyP^Fl  have  been  omitted. 


The  Song  of  Songs         325 

With  a  passion  more  in  harmony  with  our  modern 
taste,  the  poet  sings  the  praises  of  his  love.  To  him 
she  far  surpasses  in  splendour  all  the  beauties  of 
Solomon's  court  (vi.  8).  The  flash  of  those  dazzling 
eyes  he  can  hardly  even  endure  to  face. 

vi.         lo  She  looks  out  like  the  dawn} 
Fair  as  the  moon. 
Pure  as  the  sun. 
Awful  as  army  with  banners. 

In  the  next  canticle  a  maiden  of  Shulem  sings  ot 
her  capture  by  her  '  prince,'  amid  the  vain  appeals 
of  her  kinsfolk  to  return, 

11  /  went  down  to  the  garden  of  nuts. 

To  see  the  green  shoots  of  the  valley — 
To  see  if  the  vines  were  lit  hud, 
Or  the  pomegranates  'kad  fowsred. 

12  Or  ever  I  knew,  on  his  chaviot 

The  prince  of  my  people  had  placed  me. 
*  *  *  « 

13  '  Turn  back,  turn  back,  maid  of  Shulem  ; 

Turn  back,  turn  back,  that  we  see  thee  !  ' 
But  why  would  ye  see  the  Shulamite 
With  the  dancers  dancing  in  pairs  ?  ^ 


1  To  introduce  the  stanza  as  a  question  (riNf'P)  spoils  its 
whole  force. 

»  This  verse  is  one  of  the  most  uncertain  in  the  book.  The 
simplest  and  most  satisfactory  text  appears  to  the  writer  to  be 
got  by  transposing  the  last  two  words,  and  reading  ^J^b 
'Jpy  3^.3  inaSID,  the  prince  of  my  people  placed  me  on  his 
chariot.  A  verse  seems  to  have  dropped  out  at  this  point,  the 
hiatus  being  too' marked  for  the  context. 

3  Here  I  have  followed  the  MSS.  which  read  TOWQll.     If  we 


326   The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

A  sword-song  in  praise  of  womanly  beauty,  still 
more  full  of  abandon  than  the  last,  carries  us  onward 
to  a  luscious  lyric  of  rural  love. 

10  I  am  my  loved  one's, 

And  to  me  is  his  longing. 

11  Come  then,  my  love,  let  us  go  to  the  field, 

'Mong  the  henna-flowers  let  us  lodge  t 

12  Then  at  dawn  let  us  out  to  the  vineyards. 

To  see  if  the  vine  be  in  hud. 
If  the  grape's  tender  blossom  have  opened. 
Or  the  pomegranates  have  jiowefed  !  ^ 

13  For  the  mandrakes  give  forth  their  fragrance  ; 

At  our  door  jre  all  precious  fruits. 
All  of  them,  new  and  old, 

I  have  kept  for  thee,  my  beloved. 

This  is  followed  by  perhaps  the  frankest  utterance 
of  love-sickness  in  the  whole  Song. 

viii.     I  O  that  thou  wert  my  brother. 

Nursed  at  my  mother's  breasts  ! 
I  would  kiss  thee  whene'er  I  met  thee  ; 
And  none  should  hold  me  in  scorn. 

2  To  my  mother's  house  would  I  bring  thee. 
To  the  chamber  of  her  that  conceived  me  ; ' 
/  would  make  thee  to  drink  of  the  spiced  wine. 
And  the  must  of  the  pomegranate. 


take  D.''3nBn  in  its  literal  sense  of  '  the  two  bands,'  we  have  a 
reference  to  the  country  dances  from  which  the  maiden  would 
henceforth  be  missed. 

^  The  additional  phrase  of  the  MT.  is  a  mere  prosaic  gloss, 
which  disturbs  the  regular  measure  of  the  song. 

'  I  have  completed  the  parallelism  from  the  corresponding 
passage  (iii.  4). 


The  Song  of  Songs        327 

From  the  meadows  of  intoxicating  delight  we  soar 
to  the  high  mountain-peak  of  the  book — ^that  great 
paean  of  triumphant  love,  the  blended  purity,  ten- 
derness and  strength  of  which  can  hardly  be  matched 
in  the  poetry  of  passion. 

66  For  love  is  strong  as  death, 
And  jealousy  hard  as  Sheol. 
Its  flashes  are  flashes  of  fire. 
Its  flames  are  flames  of  J  ah. 

7  No  waters  can  quench  love. 

Nor  can  the  deep  floods  drown  it. 
If  a  man  gave  all  that  he  hath  for  love. 
He  would  surely  be  despised. 

Thus  the  Song  ends  in  the  peace  and  joy  of  love 
requited.  The  maiden's  brothers  had  asked  what 
they  should  do  for  their  sister  in  the  day  men  spoke 
for  her,  and  had  resolved  : — 

9  If  she  be  a  wall, 

We  shall  build  her  a  turret  of  silver  ; 
//  she  be  but  a  door. 

We  shall  fence  her  with  boards  of  cedar. 

But  through  all  the  temptations  of  youthful  impulse, 
she  had  kept  herself  true  to  honour. 

10  I  was  a  wall. 

And  my  breasts  were  as  towers  ; 
Thus  I  appeared  in  their  eyes 
As  one  that  found  peace. 

And  she  and  her  bridegroom  could  repose  in  each 
other's  love  with  perfect  satisfaction  and  delight,  en- 
vying not  even  Solomon  his  silver  and  his  pleasures. 


328  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

11  Solomon  had  a  vineyard  at  Baal-hamon  ; 

He  let  out  the  vineyard  to  keepers. 
Each  one  for  its  fruit  was  to  bring 
A  thousand  shekels  of  silver. 

12  I  have  a  vineyard — mine  own  ; 

And  its  fruit  is  before  me. 
I  leave  thee  the  thousand,  O  Solomon, 
And  the  fruit  to  the  keepers  thereof.^ 


*  On  the  reading,  cf.  KitteU 


CHAPTER    XIX 

Vanity   of  Vanities 

Our  study  of  the  speculative  wisdom  of  Proverbs 
has  shown  the  radiant  faith  of  Israel  '  sicklied  o'er 
with  the  pale  cast  of  thought.'     This  blanching  influ- 
ence of  reflection  is  still   more   evident  in  Ecclesi- 
astes,  where  faith  has  sunk  almost  to  inanition.     One 
is  not  surprised,  therefore,  that  the  Book  shared 
the  same  fate  as  the  Song  of  Songs,  and  won  full 
recognition  only  at  the  Synod  of  Jamnia.     Even 
then  its  dark,  depressing  views  of  life,  and  its  uncon- 
cealed Epicurean  tendency,  caused  deep  searchings 
of  heart  among  the  Jewish  Rabbis.      But  while  it 
pained  and  shocked  devout  spirits,  the  transparent 
honesty  of  the  Book,  and  the  classical  expression  it 
gives    to    certain    recurring    moods    of    humanity, 
exercised  a  strange  fascination,  which  has  increased 
with  the  ages.     Over  our  modern  world  it  has  thrown 
a  peculiar  spell.     Not  only  have  brilliant  wits  like 
Heine  and   Renan   found   it   '  the  most   charming 
book  '  in  the  Old  Testament,  but  grave  philosophers 
have  adopted  its  melancholic  refrain  as  the  keynote 
of  their  own  systems,  and  other  thoughtful  minds 


329 


3  30    -The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

have  caught  in  its  haunting  phrases  the  rich  under- 
tones of  their  more  serious  reflections.  It  is  aston- 
ishing how  many  quotations  from  Ecclesiastes  have 
passed  into  current  use.  And  not  a  few  of  its  brighter 
gems  shine  with  fresh  lustre  on  the  palace  walls  of 
English  literature. 

The  writer  speaks  in  the  name  of  Solomon,  king  of 
Israel.  But  the  garb  thus  assumed  is  very  lightly 
worn.  The  personal  allusions  scattered  throughout 
the  Book  point  to  a  wise  man  speaking,  not  from 
the  throne,  but  from  the  ranks  of  the  people,  and 
that,  too,  in  an  age  wholly  unlike  the  golden  day 
of  King  Solomon — one  of  political  upheaval  and 
social  disorder,  when  Israel  had  fallen  under  the 
tyrannous  rule  of  weak  and  upstart  monarchs,  who 
farmed  out  the  provinces  to  cruel  and  rapacious 
satraps,  under  whom  '  folly  sat  in  positions  of 
dignity,  and  the  rich  and  well-born  had  to  take  the 
lowest  place,  slaves  rode  on  horseback,  and  princes 
walked  as  slaves  upon  the  ground,'  justice  was  per- 
verted, and  the  land  was  honey-combed  with  spies 
and  tale-bearers,  bent  on  ruining  the  upright  (iii. 
i6ff. ;  V.  8f. ;  x.  5ff.).  The  earliest  possible  date  for 
Ecclesiastes  is  thus  the  later  Persian  period  (c.  350 
B.C.),  when  the  strong  Empire  founded  by  Cyrus  had 
become  the  happy  hunting-ground  of  political  exploit- 
ers and  adventurers.  But  the  general  picture  of 
anarchy  and  oppression  still  more  strongly  suggests 


Vanity  of  Vanities  331 

the  Greek  regime  of  the  second  century  B.C.,  when 
the  national  spirit  of  Israel  lay  crushed  and  broken, 
till  the  fiery  patriotism  of  the  Maccabees  roused  it 
to  fresh  enthusiasm.  And  the  linguistic  argument 
bears  almost  irresistibly  in  the  same  direction.  If 
we  except  the  Aramaic  sections  of  Ezra  and  Daniel, 
no  book  in  the  Old  Testament  shows  more  unmis- 
takably the  passing  of  pure  Hebrew.  In  phraseo- 
logy and  idiom,  indeed,  it  reminds  us  rather  of  the 
Mishna  than  of  anything  else  in  the  Bible.  ^ 

The  historical  allusions  in  iv.  i3ff.  and  x.  i6f.  are 
too  vague  to  be  relied  on  for  evidence  of  date. 
But  both  passages  are  most  plausibly  related  to  the 
victory  of  Antiochus  the  Great  over  the  degenerate 
King  Ptolemy  V  (Epiphanes)  of  Egypt,  and  the 
enthusiasm  with  which  he  was  welcomed  as  overlord 
of  Palestine  (198  B.C.).  A  terminus  ad  quern  for  at 
least  the  original  cast  of  the  Book  is  found  in  the 
Wisdom  of  Ben  Sira  (c.  180  B.C.),  which  is  full  of 
clear  reminiscences  of  Ecclesiastes.^    We  may  date 

*  The  arguments  for  the  late  date  of  Ecclesiastes  are  detailed 
in  the  various  Commentaries  and  standard  works  of  Introduction. 
For  the  linguistic  peculiarities,  of.  especially  the  Commentaries 
of  DeUtzsch  and  Siegfried. 

■  The  relation  between  Ecclesiastes  and  Ben  Sira  has  been 
carefully  worked  out  by  Plumptre  in  his  charmingly-written 
Commentary  in  the  Cambridge  Bible  Series,  pp.  56ff.,  and  more 
recently,  in  direct  dependence  on  the  Hebrew  original  of  Ben 
Sira,  by  McNeile,  in  his  most  valuable  Introduction  to  Ecclesi- 
astes, pp.  34ff .,  and  Barton,  in  the  International  Critical  Commen- 


332   The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

it  then  about  the  beginning  of  the  second  century, 
most  probably  just  after  198  B.C.,  thus  allowing 
sufficient  time  for  its  influence  to  be  felt  in  later 
literature. 

The  Book  is  stamped  with  the  impress  of  strong 
personal  character  and  experience.  Its  prevalent 
tone  may  be  ashen  grey ;  but  underneath  the  hard- 
ening lava  the  fires  have  burnt,  the  intensity  of  their 
glow  being  revealed  in  the  sparkling  crystals  of 
thought  that  flash  out  upon  us.  The  author  was 
evidently  a  man  of  high  position,  wealth,  and  cul- 
ture, who  had  drunk  deep  draughts  of  the  cup  of 
life's  enjoyments,  though  he  suffered  bitterly  in  the 
sorrows  of  his  people  and  city,  and  was  wounded 
also  '  in  the  house  of  his  friends  '  (vii.  26ff.).  The 
cynicism  which  runs  through  the  Book  may  be 
partly  the  result  of  ennui,  but  the  sharpest  thrusts 
of  the  sting  are  impelled  by  disappointment  and 
vexation  of  spirit.  The  author  is  no  voluptuary 
who  seeks  to  drown  the  thought  of  the  '  unborn  To- 
morrow, and  dead  Yesterday  '  in  the  '  ancient 
Ruby  '  of  the  vine.  He  is  a  serious  thinker,  proud 
of  his  '  wisdom,'  who  has  sought  thus  to  wrest  from 


tary,  pp.  53ff.  From  the  rich  material  laid  under  contribution, 
the  latter  arrives  at  the  conclusion  '  that  Ben  Sira  knew  the  work 
of  Coheleth  and  used  his  words  as  a  modern  writer  might  weave 
into  his  work  the  words  of  Browning  or  Tennyson  or  any  other 
well-known  author'  {op.  cit.,  p.  55). 


Vanity  of  Vanities         333 

life  its  secrets,  and  rebels  against  the  Divinely 
appointed  limitations  of  wisdom.  Of  all  the  writers 
of  the  Old  Testament,  he  has  caught  most  of  the 
Greek  spirit.  And  in  his  judgments  of  life  he  often 
reminds  us  of  the  Greek  thinkers,  though  at  heart 
he  remains  a  Hebrew  of  the  Hebrews.*  Thus  his 
Book  is  didactic  throughout.  He  introduces  himself 
as  Koheleth,  the  Preacher  or  Teacher.  ^    And  all 

*  The  hypothesis  of  Greek  influence  both  in  language  and 
thought  was  suggested  by  older  scholars  like  van  der  Palm,  Zir- 
kel,  and  Graetz,  but  was  first  fully  elaborated  by  Tyler  in  his 
Ecclesiastes  (1874),  and  definitely  adopted  by  E.  Pfleiderer, 
Plumptre,  Wildeboer,  Siegfried,  and  Cornill,  who  have  sought  to 
establish  the  Preacher's  dependence  either  on  the  philosophy  of 
Heraclitus  or  more  generally  on  the  later  Stoic  or  Epicurean 
schools.  The  theory  has  been  carefully  canvassed  in  the  recent 
Commentaries  of  McNeile  and  Barton,  and  a  thoroughly  negative 
conclusion  reached  by  both.  '  The  book  of  Ecclesiastes  repre- 
sents, then,  an  original  development  of  Hebrew  thought,  thor- 
oughly Semitic  in  its  point  of  view,  and  quite  independent  of 
Greek  influences  '  (Barton,  op.  cit.,  p.  43).  While  agreeing  with 
these  and  other  scholars  that  the  Preacher  is  at  heart  a  Jew,  the 
tone  of  the  Book,  its  frank  materialism,  and  its  almost  cynical 
commendation  of  the  '  golden  mean  '  as  the  only  course  of  wis- 
dom, with  its  thought  of  the  endless  flux  of  Nature  reducing  life 
to  mere  '  vanity,'  seem  to  the  present  writer  clearly  to  suggest 
that  he  was  influenced  by  the  general  currents  of  Greek  culture 
that  were  then  sweeping  over  the  Eastern  world. 

*  npnp,fem.partic.  of  7T\\>,  denom.  verb  from  ^nj5,  an  assembly, 
hence  caller  of  assemblies.  The  Greek  "&KK\r)(naaTr)'s  (our  Eccles- 
iastes) thus  comes  close  to  the  original  meaning  of  the  term.  The 
fem.  is  no  doubt  that  of  official  status,  like  DISD,  scribeship  or 
scribe  (Ezra  ii.  55),  etc.  Examples  of  the  same  usage  are  found 
in  other  languages,  e.g.  Ar.  chalifa.  Caliph,  Greek  ^  i^ovaia, 
the  powers  that  be,  and  modern  English  Your  Majesty,  Your  Lord- 


334  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

his  reflections  are  couched  in  a  vein  of  grave  serious- 
ness, calculated  to  impress  upon  his  readers  the  pro- 
found significance  of  his  counsel. 

The  arrangement  of  the  Book  has  caused  much 
difficulty  to  its  students.  Through  the  first  four 
chapters  the  argument  is  closely  developed.  But 
thereafter  the  thought  is  warped  and  broken,  the 
sequence  of  the  argument  being  interrupted  by  a 
wealth  of  proverbial  lore,  and  occasional  reflections 
wholly  at  variance  with  the  real  philosophy  of  the 
author.  We  cannot,  indeed,  look  for  perfect  con- 
sistency in  a  Book  like  Ecclesiastes.  As  a  transcript 
from  life,  it  must  needs  reflect  the  author's  changing 
moods.  And  if  the  Book  be  of  the  nature  of  a 
Journal  Intime,  the  latter  chapters  of  which  were 
penned  at  intervals  during  some  little  lapse  of  time, 
the  broken  structure  may  be  readily  explained.  One 
can  hardly  resist  the  feeling,  however,  that  Kohe- 
leth's  original  treasury  of  wisdom  has  been  enriched 
by  various  alien  elements,  the  presence  of  which  is 
most  easily  detected  in  chs.  vii.  and  x.,  and  that  his 
pronounced  Epicureanism  has  been  toned  down  by 
a  series  of  pious  annotations  from  some  orthodox 
Jew,  who  sought  in  this  way  to  remove  occasions  of 
offence.^    The  Epilogue  (xii.  9-14)  is  also  with  in- 

ship  (the  fem.  appearing  in  the  German,  Eure  Majestdt,  die 
Obrigkeit),  etc. 

*  The  strange  contradictions  in  the  Book  have  long  been  noted 


Vanity  of  Vanities         335 

creasing  unanimity  recognized  as  an  editorial  appen- 
dix to  the  original  Book,  the  closing  verses  {vv.  i^i.) 
being  probably  the  latest  element  of  all. 

At  the  outset  the  Preacher  throws  into  full  light 
his  general  view  of  life.  '  Vanity  of  vanities,  saith 
the  Preacher,  all  is  vanity  '  (i.  2).  And  this  judg- 
ment is  deduced  from  the  constant  flux  of  Nature  and 
life.  Things  ebb  and  flow.  The  sun  rises  and  sets 
then  '  pants '  wearily  backward  to  the  place  from 
which  he  came.  The  winds  turn  continually  upon 
their  circuits.  The  waters  pour  down  to  the  sea, 
which  yet  is  never  full.     The  generations  come  and 

by  commentators,  •who  sought  to  explain  them  by  the  theory  of 
conflicting  moods,  or  by  such  an  analogy  as  Tennyson's  '  Two 
Voices.'  But  the  contrasts  are  too  strong,  and  often  too  abrupt, 
to  be  thus  dissolved  away.  Bickell  and  Haupt  attempted  to 
solve  the  problem  by  the  hypothesis  of  radical  dislocations  in  the 
text ;  and  Siegfried  followed  them  up  by  his  remarkable  theory 
of  interpolations,  according  to  which  the  work  of  the  original 
pessimistic  Preacher  (Q^)  was  overlaid  successively  by  an  Epicur- 
ean Sadducee  (Q ') ,  a '  Wisdom '  and  a '  pious '  glossator  (Q*  and  Q*) 
besides  certain  other  glossators  (Q^)  whose  work  cannot  be  individ- 
ualized. Although  such  extreme  hypotheses  have  failed  to  carry 
conviction,  the  presence  of  later  interpolations  is  now  generally 
admitted.  Both  Peake  and  Davidson  recognize  qualifications 
of  Ecclesiastes'  view  in  iii.  17;  xi.  gc;  xii.  la, as  well  as  in  the 
Epilogue.  McFadyen  goes  somewhat  further  ;  while  the  latest 
commentators,  McNeile  and  Barton,  in  addition  to  '  Wisdom  ' 
enrichments,  trace  the  hand  of  the  orthodox  annotator  also  in 
ii.26;  vii.  186,  266,  29,  andviii.26,  3a,  5,  6a,  11-13,  mostof  which 
passages,  in  direct  contrast  to  the  general  tenor  of  the  Book, 
emphasize  the  certainty  of  Divine  judgment.  The  elimination 
of  these  verses  offers  a  simple  solution  of  the  difficulties,  while 
preserving  the  essential  integrity  of  the  text. 


3  3  6   The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

go.  The  past  are  forgotten,  and  the  present  must 
in  their  turn  also  pass  into  oblivion.  Thus  man  has 
no  profit  of  all  the  labour  at  which  he  laboureth 
under  the  sun.  For  no  result  can  come  of  his  work. 
'  There  is  no  new  thing  under  the  sun  '  (i.  3ff.). 

The  same  depressing  conviction  is  borne  out  by 
the  writer's  varied  experience  of  life.  The  search 
for  wisdom  to  which  he  devoted  the  enthusiasm  of 
his  young  manhood  is  '  a  sad  toil  that  God  hath 
given  the  sons  of  men  to  toil  thereat  '  and  as  vain 
and  profitless  as  it  is  hard.  For  with  all  man's 
wisdom  the  crooked  cannot  be  made  straight,  nor 
that    which    is  wanting   filled    in    and  numbered. 

*  I  perceived  that  this  also  was  but  striving  after 
wind' — a  quest  that  brings  one  nowhere  near  the 
goal,  and  has  no  return  but  that  of  increased  pain. 

*  For  in  much  wisdom  is  much  grief  ;  and  he  that 
increaseth  knowledge  increaseth  sorrow  '  (i.  izft.). 
To  a  soul  thus  wearied  with  thought  the  rewards  of 
pleasure  seem  doubly  attractive.  Thus  Koheleth 
gave  himself  with  zest  to  the  enjoyments  of  the 
banquet  and  the  vine,  and  all  that  wealth  could 
purchase  of  social  comfort  and  delights.  But  the 
end  was  the  same.  Surfeit  brought  satiety,  and 
that  ennui  and  disgust  of  pleasure.  *  I  said  of  laugh- 
ter, It  is  mad,  and  of  mirth,  What  is  the  good  of  it  ?  ' 
And  when  he  looked  on  all  his  possessions  and  enjoy- 
ments, '  behold,  all  was  vanity  and  a  striving  after 


Vanity   of  Vanities  337 

wind  ;  and  there  was  no  profit  under  the  sun  '  (ii.  iff.) . 
As  the  wise  man  then  quietly  surveyed  the  diverse 
courses  he  had  followed,  it  seemed  to  him  that  wis- 
dom excelled  folly,  '  even  as  light  excelleth  dark- 
ness.' For  the  wise  man  had  eyes  in  his  head, 
while  the  fool  stumbled  along  in  the  darkness.  But 
again  his  joy  in  wisdom  was  short-lived.  For  there 
was  no  difference  in  the  end.  '  The  same  event 
happeneth  to  both  of  them.'  The  wise  man  died 
just  like  the  fool.  And  after  death  there  was  no 
remembrance  of  either  of  them,  '  inasmuch  as  in 
the  days  to  come  both  will  have  been  forgotten  ' 
(ii.  I2ff.).  The  highways  of  duty  lead  to  the  same 
result.  Man  may  toil  and  strive,  and  give  of  his 
finest  wisdom  and  skill  to  his  works  ;  yet  he  must 
leave  it  all  behind  him,  perhaps  to  a  fool  who  will 
squander  his  inheritance.  '  This  also  is  vanity.' 
Thus  there  seems  nothing  better  for  a  man  than 
'  that  he  should  eat  and  drink,  and  find  enjoyment 
in  his  labours.'  And  this,  the  Preacher  feels,  is  the 
end  of  life  ordained  by  God  Himself,  who  has  made 
everything  '  beautiful  in  its  time,'  yet  has  imposed 
fixed  barriers  on  human  interests  and  activities, 
and  therewith  also  implanted  the  sense  of  '  eternity  ' 
in  men's  hearts,  '  so  that  man  cannot  find  out  the 
work  that  God  hath  done  from  the  beginning  to  the 
end.'  It  is  useless,  therefore,  for  man  to  struggle 
against  his  fate.     *  What  God  doeth,  it  is  for  ever  ; 

22 


3  3  8   The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

nothing  can  be  put  to  it,  nor  anything  taken  from  it.' 
Let  every  man,  then, '  eat  and  drink,  and  enjoy  good 
in  all  his  labour,'  seeing  in  this  '  the  gift  of  God ' 
(ii.  i8ff.). 

If  we  cast  our  eyes  over  the  broader  stage  of  life, 
the  same  weariness  and  vanity  appear  on  every  hand. 
In  the  place  of  judgment  stands  wickedness  trium- 
phant. On  the  high  roads  of  life  are  violence  and 
oppression,  made  more  poignant  by  '  the  tears  of 
such  as  are  oppressed,'  and  have  no  comforter  to 
uphold  them.  And  even  where  happiness  is  found, 
it  is  for  so  short  a  time.  Inevitable  destiny  strikes 
down  the  righteous  and  the  wicked,  the  happy  and 
the  miserable  alike.  '  For  that  befalleth  the  sons 
of  men  which  befalleth  the  beasts  ;  the  same  thing 
befalleth  them.  As  the  one  dieth,  so  dieth  the  other. 
They  have  all  the  same  breath.  And  man  hath  no 
advantage  over  the  beasts  ;  for  all  is  vanity.  All 
go  unto  one  place  ;  all  are  of  the  dust,  and  all  return 
to  dust  again  '  (iii.  i6ff.).^    Life  is  so  uncertain  and 

*  '  The  life  of  the  great  majority  is  only  a  constant  struggle  for 
this  existence  itself,  with  the  certainty  of  losing  it  at  last.  But 
what  enables  them  to  endure  this  wearisome  battle  is  not  so  much 
the  love  of  life  as  the  fear  of  death,  which  yet  stands  in  the  back- 
ground as  inevitable,  and  may  come  upon  them  at  any 
moment.  Life  itself  is  a  sea,  full  of  rocks  and  whirlpools,  which 
man  avoids  with  the  greatest  care  and  solicitude,  although  he 
knows  that,  even  if  he  succeeds  in  getting  through  with  all  his 
efforts  and  skill,  he  yet  by  doing  so  comes  nearer  at  every  step 
to  the  greatest,  the  total,  inevitable,  and  irremediable  shipwreck, 
death  ;   nay,  even  steers  right  upon  it :   this  is  the  final  goal  of 


Vanity  of  Vanities         339 

miserable,  indeed,  that  the  Preacher  is  inclined  to 
praise  the  dead  that  are  already  dead  and  gone  more 
than  the  living  that  are  yet  alive  ;  and  better  than 
both  he  counts  the  untimely  birth  that  has  never 
been  in  this  miserable  world  to  see  the  evil  that  is 
done  under  the  sun  (iv.  2f.).  Many  other  in- 
stances he  accumulates  of  the  vanity  of  life  :  the 
rich  man  who  has  no  son  or  brother  to  whom  he 
may  leave  his  wealth,  '  yet  is  there  no  end  to  all 
his  labour,  neither  are  his  eyes  satisfied  with  wealth  ' 
(iv.  8),  the  instability  of  position,  and  the  fickleness 
of  the  mob  (iv.  I3ff.),  the  impossibility  of  securing 
justice  in  the  State  (v.  8f.),  the  carking  care  that 
accompanies  all  increase  of  worldly  goods  (v.  ii), 
the  nakedness  in  which  the  richest  must  return  to 
the  earth's  womb  that  gave  him  birth  (v.  15),  the 
difficulty  of  knowing  what  is  really  good  for  man 
during  '  the  days  of  his  vain  life  '  (vi.  12),  the  oblivion 
that  sweeps  away  the  righteous  and  their  works,  for 
how  often  has  the  wise  man  seen  the  wicked  buried 
in  honour,  and  their  names  handed  down  for  per- 
petual praise,  whUe  it  happened  to  the  righteous 
according  to  the  just  reward  of  the  wicked  (viii.  loff.), 
the  uncertainties  of  fortune,  the  race  falling  not  to 
the  swift,  nor  the  battle  to  the  strong,  neither  bread 


the  laborious  voyage,  and  worse  for  him  than  all  the  rocks  from 
which  he  has  escaped.' — Schopenhauer,  The  World  as  Will  an«l 
Idea,  E.T.,  I.  403. 


340  The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

to  the  wise,  nor  riches  to  the  prudent,  nor  favour  to 
the  skilled,  for  *  as  the  fishes  are  taken  in  the  net , 
and  the  birds  caught  in  the  snare,  even  so  are  the 
sons  of  men  snared  in  an  evil  time,  when  it  falleth 
suddenly  upon  them  '  (ix.  iif.),  the  base  ingratitude 
of  men  to  the  saviours  of  their  city  and  homes  (ix. 
132.),  the  misery  of  unjust  or  weak  government  (x. 
5ff.),  and  the  heavy,  weary  weight  *  of  all  this  unin- 
telligible world,'  for  '  as  thou  knowest  not  the  way 
of  the  wind,  nor  the  growth  of  the  bones  in  the 
womb  of  her  that  is  with  child,  so  canst  thou  know 
not  the  work  of  God,  who  maketh  all  things  '  (xi. 
5).  And  the  Book  ends  as  it  began  :  '  Vanity  of 
vanities,  saith  the  Preacher  ;  all  is  vanity  '  (xii,  8). 
The  general  tone  of  Ecclesiastes,  then,  is  pessi- 
mistic. We  might  almost  be  reading  Schopenhauer's 
judgment  that  '  life  presents  itself  as  a  continual 
deception  in  small  things  as  in  great,'  that  the  con- 
viction inevitably  borne  in  upon  us  from  every  side 
is  '  that  nothing  at  all  is  worth  our  striving,  our 
efforts  and  struggles,  that  all  good  things  are  vanit}', 
the  world  in  all  its  ends  bankrupt,  and  life  a  business 
which  does  not  cover  its  expenses.'  ^  The  more 
rigid  critics  have  not  hesitated,  therefore,  to  class 
the  two  thinkers  under  the  same  category.  In  Dr. 
Dillon's  words,  '  Koheleth's  conception  of  life,  its 
pleasures  and  pains,  is  as  clearly  and  emphatically 

»  Of.  cit.,  III.  ^82f, 


Vanity   of  Vanities  341 

expressed  as  that  of  the  Buddha  or  of  Schopenhauer. 
He  is  an  uncompromising  pessimist,  who  sees  the 
world  as  it  is.  Everything  that  seems  pleasant  or 
profitable  is  vanity  and  a  grasping  of  wind  ;  there 
is  nothing  positive  but  pain,  nothing  real  but  the 
eternal  Will,  which  is  certainly  unknowable  and 
probably  unconscious.  .  .  .  When  all  has  been 
said  and  done,  the  highest  worldly  wisdom  is  but  a 
less  harmful  species  of  folly.  Existence  is  an  evil, 
and  the  sole  effective  remedy  renunciation.'  ^ 

In  connexion  with  Agur's  riddles,  however,  we 
have  noted  that  the  very  agnosticism  of  the  Hebrews 
is  religious.  The  baffled  thinker  may  despair  of 
ever  knowing  God's  ways  ;  yet  God  Himself  remains 
the  eternal  Rock  of  the  good  man's  faith  and  life. 
The  pessimism  of  the  Hebrews  was  equally  religious. 
The  Preacher  might  find  life  vanity  and  disillusion- 
ment ;  and  yet  his  belief  in  God  would  stand  the 
shock.  There  is  certainly  no  enthusiasm  in  his  faith. 
Thought  and  satiety  have  chilled  the  warmer  im- 
pulses of  devotion.  God  is  no  longer  the  gracious 
Friend,  near  to  comfort  and  bless  the  thirsting  soul, 
but  a  great  Monarch  on  His  throne  above,  whom  men 
can  only  reverence  and  'fear'  (v.  2ff.).  But  even 
such  pale  and  cheerless  faith  may  keep  one  clean  in 
heart,  and  true  to  the  compass  of  honest  duty.  Ko- 
heleth's  moral  principles  read  like  undiluted  Epicur- 

*  Sceptics  oj  the  Old  Testament,  pp.  ii3flE, 


342   The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

eanism.  But  when  touched  by  the  fear  of  God,  his 
Epicureanism  becomes,  not  indeed  the  heroic  virtue 
of  the  prophet  or  saint,  but  at  all  events  decent 
moderate  morality.  For  Koheleth  the  true  course  of 
wisdom  lies  in  the  avoidance  of  extremes  on  either 
side.  '  Be  not  righteous  overmuch  ' — strive  after 
no  impossible  ideals  of  goodness ;  '  neither  make 
thyself  overwise' — ^struggle  not  to  penetrate  mysteries 
that  are  too  high  for  thee  ;  '  for  why  shouldest  thou 
destroy  thyself  ?  '  But,  on  the  other  hand,  '  be 
not  overmuch  wicked,  neither  give  way  to  folly,  (or 
godlessness)  ;  for  why  shouldest  thou  die  before 
thy  time  ?  '  (vii.  i6f.).  And  this  principle  reduces 
itself  in  practice  to  the  steady  pursuit  of  sanctified 
common  sense  on  the  beaten  track  of  life.  Kohe- 
leth's  practical  philosophy  is  perhaps  best  summed 
up  in  the  following  paragraph  :  '  Go,  eat  thy  bread 
with  gladness,  and  drink  thy  wine  with  a  merry 
heart ;  for  already  hath  God  accepted  thy  works. 
In  every  season  let  thy  garments  be  white  (or,  fes- 
tal) ,  and  let  not  oil  upon  thy  head  be  lacking.  Enjoy 
life  with  the  woman  thou  lovest  all  the  days  of  thy 
vain  life  that  He  giveth  thee  under  the  sun ;  for 
this  is  thy  portion  in  life,  through  all  thy  labour  at 
which  thou  labourest  under  the  sun.  All  that  thy 
hand  findeth  to  do,  do  it  with  thy  might ;  for  there 
is  no  work  nor  reckoning,  no  knowledge  or  wisdom, 
in  Sheol,  whither  thou  goest  '  (ix.  7£f.). 


Vanity   of  Vanities  343 

To  the  man  who  pursues  this  principle  Koheleth 
can  promise  a  real  measure  of  happiness.  For,  after 
all,  life  is  good,  if  only  men  use  it  worthily.  Though 
God  has  imposed  on  life  its  resistless  round  of  time 
and  season,  '  He  hath  made  everything  beautiful 
(or,  fitting)  in  its  season.'  And  the  man  who  accepts 
his  destiny  in  a  calm  and  thankful  spirit  will  find 
abiding  joy  in  life.  The  Preacher  will  have  none  of 
the  pessimistic  croakings  that  the  world  is  growing 
steadily  worse.  '  Say  not  thou.  How  is  it  that  the 
former  days  were  better  than  these  ?  For  not  in 
wisdom  dost  thou  ask  this  question  '  (vii.  lo).  As 
the  winding  current  of  his  reflections  draws  nearer 
the  end,  he  seems  even  to  feel  something  of  his  old 
delight  in  life  returning.  *  Truly  the  light  is  sweet, 
and  a  pleasant  thing  it  is  for  the  eyes  to  behold  the 
sun  '  (xi.  7).  And  at  the  close  he  rises  clear  above 
the  prosaic  temper  of  his  preaching  to  a  rapture  of 
fine  Oriental  poetry. 

Rejoice,  young  man,  in  thy  youth. 

And  be  glad  in  the  days  of  thy  prime  ; 

Yea,  walk  in  the  ways  of  thy  heart,  and  the  sight  of  thine  eyes. 
Put  sorrow  from  thy  heart. 

And  evil  remove  from  thy  flesh — 

For  youth  and  ripe  strength  are  but  vanity —  * 
Ere  the  evil  days  be  come, 

Or  the  years  draw  nigh  when  thou  sayest, 

'  No  pleasure  I  find  in  them  '  ; 

*■  On  the  omissions  from  the  text,  cf.  p.  335,  n. 


344   The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

Or  ever  ike  sun  be  darkened, 

The  light,  and  the  moon,  and  the  stars. 

And  the  clouds  return  after  rain  ; 
In  the  day  when  the  keepers  tremble. 

And  the  men  of  might  bend  downward  ; 
The  grinding-maids  cease  because  they  are  few, 

And  the  ladies  that  look  from  the  windows  are  darkened  ; 
And  the  doors  are  closed  to  the  street, 

A  nd  the  sound  of  the  mill  is  low  ; 
And  the  voice  of  the  sparrow  is  faint. 

And  the  daughters  of  song  are  laid  prostrate  ; 
When  man  shrinks  from  all  that  is  high. 

And  terrors  are  in  the  way  ; 
And  the  almond-tree  is  in  bloom. 

And  the  grass-hopper  draggeth,  and  the  caper  is  fruitless  ; 
For  man  wendeth  his  way  to  his  everlasting  home. 

And  the  mourners  move  through  the  street; 
Ere  the  silver  cord  be  snapped, 

And  the  golden  bowl  be  broken  ; 
And  the  pitcher  be  shivered  over  the  spring. 

And  the  draw-wheel  fall  broken  into  the  cistern  ; 
And  the  dust  return  to  earth  as  it  was. 

And  the  spirit  return  to  God  who  gave  it  (xi.  gff.)-' 


1  The  poem  pictures  the  decaying  powers  of  old  age  under  a 
variety  of  images.  The  darkening  of  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars 
clearly  suggests  the  falling  light  of  life  ;  the  keepers  of  the  house 
are  the  once  strong  hands  and  arms,  and  the  '  men  of  might '  the 
legs  and  feet ;  the  grinding-maids  are  as  evidently  the  teeth, 
and  the  ladies  of  the  window  the  eyes  ;  the  closed  doors  are  most 
probably  the  tightly  compressed  lips  of  old  age,  and  the  mill  is 
the  mouth.  In  the  next  couplet  we  should  read  a  word  like  l\'^\ 
bow,  grow  faint,  for  DIpJ  he  ariseth,  both  lines  suggesting  the  thin, 
unmusical  utterance  of  the  old.  The  following  verse  depicts  the 
fear  with  which  he  faces  difl&culties  on  the  way.  The  bloom  of 
the  almond-tree  is  a  metaphor  for  the  whitening  hair,  and  the 
grass-hopper  probably  figurative  of  the  once  alert  joints  and 
springs,  while  the  caper-berry  is  a  favourite  Eastern  stimulant, 


Vanity   of  Vanities  345 

Thus  Ecclesiastes  leaves  us  involved  in  the  same 
antinomy  as  Agur.  Neither  has  been  able  to  round 
the  circle.  Their  speculative  world  may  be  likened 
rather  to  an  ellipse  revolving  round  two  separate 
foci.  Such  antinomies  are  no  doubt  grave  defects  in 
a  speculative  system.  But  the  besetting  sin  of 
philosophers  is  to  round  the  circle  at  the  expense 
of  vital  facts.  The  Hebrew  thinkers  are  loyal  to 
different  aspects  of  truth.  They  may  not  be  able 
to  reconcile  faith  in  their  fathers'  God  with  the  per- 
plexing problems  of  life.  But  they  refuse  to  yield 
to  the  temptation  of  a  premature  or  one-sided  solu- 
tion. The  tenacity  with  which  moral  realists  like 
Agur  and  Koheleth  held  fast  to  faith  amid  all  that 
was  dark  and  depressing  in  life  is  a  striking  proof  of 
the  invincible  hope  of  Israel.  In  Cornill's  judgment 
'  the  piety  of  the  Old  Testament  never  celebrated  a 
greater  triumph  than  in  the  Book  of  Koheleth.' ^ 
But  the  world  of  faith  cannot  remain  forever  an 
ellipse.  A  just  conception  of  God  must  harmonize 
with  the  facts  of  life.    And  already  in  the  additions 

which  now  fails  to  excite  the  appetite.  The  silver  cord,  the  gold- 
en bowl,  and  the  pitcher  and  draw-wheel  are  other  symbols  for 
the  life  which  vanishes  with  the  severance  of  the  spirit  from  the 
dust.  In  this  latter  verse  there  is  no  real  hope  of  immortality 
expressed.  Death  is  conceived  in  terms  of  Gen.  ii.  7,  where  life 
is  given  through  the  '  breath  '  or '  spirit '  of  God,  and  comes  to  a 
natural  end  when  God  takes  back  His  '  spirit,' 
^  Einleituttg^,  p.  280. 


34^   The  Poets  of  the  Old  Testament 

to  Koheleth  the  attempt  is  made  to  reach  this 
higher  view.  The  problem  is  still  more  resolutely 
attacked  in  the  later  Wisdom  of  Solomon  (c.  100-50 
B.C.).  The  second  chapter  of  this  Book  is  a  direct 
protest  against  the  Preacher's  low,  materialistic 
theory  of  life.  But  the  real  advance  of  Wisdom 
starts  from  one  of  Koheleth's  own  most  pregnant 
thoughts.  The  impossibility  of  knowing  God's 
works  '  from  the  begining  to  the  end  '  he  had  con- 
nected with  the  sense  of  '  eternity  '  that  God  had 
implanted  in  the  heart.  To  Koheleth,  indeed,  this 
feeling  but  induced 

'  obstinate  questionings 
Of  sense  and  outward  things. 
Fallings  from  us,  vanishings ; 
Blank  misgivings  of  a  Creature 
Moving  about  in  worlds  not  realized.' 

But  to  deeper  reflection  these  same  misgivings  are 
real  '  intimations  of  Immortality.'  This  inevitable 
outcome  of  the  sense  of  '  eternity  '  is  clearly  per- 
ceived by  the  author  of  Wisdom.  Even  for  the 
bravest  of  the  Psalmists  immortality  had  been  a 
leap  in  the  dark.     In  Wisdom  it  is  an  assured  hope. 

For  God  created  man  to  be  immortal, 

and  made  him  an  image  of  His  own  Being  (ii.  23). 

The  souls  of  the  righteous  are  in  the  hand  of  God, 

and  there  shall  no  torment  touch  them. 
In  the  eyes  of  the  foolish  they  seemed  to  die, 

and  their  going  was  counted  an  evil, 

their  departure  from  us  destruction^ 


Vanity  of  Vanities         347 

But  they  are  in  peace. 

For  though  in  men's  sight  they  have  suffered  the  penalty, 
yet  is  their  hope  full  of  immortality  (iii.  iff.). 

There  is  still,  no  doubt,  an  antinomy  in  the  world  of 
faith.  The  glories  of  the  life  beyond  are  rather  set 
in  contrast  with  the  troubles  of  this  present  time 
than  viewed  as  the  full  fruition  of  faith.  In  another 
passage  of  Wisdom  (viii,  17)  immortality  is  directly 
involved  in  the  good  man's  spiritual  alliance  with 
wisdom.  But  the  ripe  development  of  this  thought 
is  reached  only  in  Christian  mysticism.  For  here 
'  eternity  '  is  not  merely  projected  into  the  future, 
but  made  a  real  abiding  inheritance  of  all  the  sons 
of  God.  *  This  is  life  eternal,  that  they  should  know 
thee,  the  only  true  God,  and  him  whom  thou  didst 
send,  even  Jesus  Christ  '  (John  xvii.  3). 


INDICES 


GENERAL  INDEX 

Agnostic  tendencies  in  the  Old  Testament,  302!!. 
Agur,  Words  of,  268f.,  304ff.,  345f. 
Ahikar,  Wisdom  of,  260 
Anointed  of  the  Lord,  The,  j^t.,  i88f. 
Anthologies  of  Hebrew  Song,  66ff.,   ii6ff.,  3173. 
Anthropomorphisms  in  the  Psalter,   i25f. 
Arabic  poetry,  QuaUties  of,  6,  gi.,  17,  2  if. 
Aristotle,  54  w.,  61  «.,  218,  281  m.,  282  w. 
Asaph,  Psalms  of,   i05ff. 
Assyro-Babylonian  poetry.  Metre  of,   17 

Musical  accompaniments,  6ofT. 

Balaam,  Oracles  of,  38ff. 

Battle-songs  in  the  Old  Testament,  27ff. 

Bedouin  proverbs,  256ff. 

Ben  Sira,  Wisdom  of,  106  n.,  114  «.,  26off.,  28iff.,   298f., 

33if- 
Blessing  of   Noah,  37f.  ;    of  Isaac,  38  ;    of   Balaam,  38ff,  ; 

of  Jacob,  4off.  ;    of  Moses,  42 
Book  of  Jashar,  6gi. 

„       the  Wars  of  Jahweh,  67f. 
Business  life  in  Proverbs,  272ff. 

Canticles,  see  Song  of  Songs. 
Choirmaster's  Psalter,  The,  io8f. 

Dance  in  ancient  Israel,  The,  53f. 

David's    Elegy  on  Abner,  45f.  ;    on  Jonathan,    46!.  ;    his 

relation  to  Psalmody,  ggi. 
'David,  Psalms  of,'  looff.  ;    'Prayers  of,'   io3f. 
Deborah,  Song  of,  27,  3 iff. 


3  5  2  General   Index 

Ecclesiastes,  Charm  of  the  Book,  S2gi.  ;  date  and  author- 
ship, 33off.  ;  Greek  influence  on  the  writer,  333  ; 
later  interpolations,  334f.  ;  the  author's  survey  of 
life,  335ff.  ;  his  pessimistic  vein,  34of.  ;  moderate 
morality  of  the  Book,  34if.  ;  brighter  outlook  towards 
the  close,  343f.  ;  moral  antinomy  thus  involved, 
345f.  ;  approaches  to  a  solution,  346f. 

Ecclesiasticus,  see  Ben  Sira. 

Elegiac  measure  in  Hebrew,   i8ff.,  yiff. 

Elihu,  Speeches  of,  2133. 

'Elohim,  Use  of,  in  Psalter,  106,   128 

Elohistic  Psalter,  the,   io6f. 

Exile,  Sorrow  and  despair  of  the,  iSgff.  ;  new  hope  and 
life,   i92ff. 

Ezekiel,  Relation  of,  to  Lam.  ii.  and  iv.,  76  n. 

Fear  of    God,  in  the    Psalms,  i59f.  ;    in    Proverbs,  264ff. 

Folk-poetry  in  the  Old  Testament,  23ff.;  vintage-songs, 
24f.  ;  harvest-songs,  25  ;  shepherd-songs,  25  ;  well- 
song,  25f.  ;  songs  of  Nature,  26f.  ;  battle-songs, 
27ff.  ;  satires,  35ff.  ;  national  songs,  37ff.  ;  songs 
of  festivity,  42ff.  ;  lamentations,  44ff.  ;  religious 
songs,  47ff. 

Folly  in  Proverbs,  275ff.,  288f. 

Fool,  The,  as  the  '  Godless  '  man,   120,  206  n. 

Forgiveness  in  the  Psalms,   136,   169^. 

Freedom,  peace,  and  happiness  of  the  good,  in  the  Psalms, 
i62fE. 

Friendship,  in  Proverbs,  28iff. 

Gnosticism,  Beginnings  of,  in  Proverbs,  29511. 

God,  in  the  Book  of  Psalms  :  primitive  conceptions,  120, 
122,  129  ;  His  essential  unity,  i2off.  ;  His  exaltation, 
yet  nearness  to  His  people,  i22£E.  ;  His  personal 
Being,  i26f.  ;  the  Divine  names,  i27f.  ;  His  ethical 
character,  i29ff.  ;  truth,  righteousness,  perfection, 
purity,  and  holiness,  i3of.  ;  love  and  mercy,  i32ff.  ; 
the  universal  sweep  of  God's  love,  i35ff.  ;  as  shield, 
rock,  sun,  etc.,  i38f.  ;   as  motherbird,  Gael,  Shepherd, 


General   Index  353 

and  Father,  isgff.  ;  the  glory  of  God  in  Nature,  i42fE.  ; 

the  image  of   God  in  man,  i53ff.  ;    God  the  Source  of 

immortal  life,  lygff.  ;    the  Kingdom  of  God,  i85ff. 
Golden  Rule,  Approaches  to,  in  Psalms,  162  ;   in  Job,  246  ; 

in  Proverbs,  28of. 
Goodness,   Ideal  of,   in    Psalms,    159!?.  ;     prosperity  and 

happiness   of  the   good,    i62ff.  ;     the     good     man    of 

Proverbs,  271  ff. 
Greek  influence  on  the   Book  of  Proverbs,    269f. ;    297ff. ; 

on  Ecclesiastes,  333f. 

Hallel  Psalms,  ii2f. 

Hanna,  Song  of,  42  n. 

Harmonies,  Tonal,  in  Hebrew  poetry,  5ff. 

Harvest-songs  in  the  Old  Testament,  25 

Hebrew  poetry,  its  '  simple,  sensuous,  and  passionate ' 
genius,  ifE.  ;  its  picturesque  force,  4f.  ;  its  har- 
monious effects,  5ff.  ;  parallelism,  iiff.  ;  rhythm 
and  metre,  I5ff.  ;  strophic  arrangement,  2of.  ; 
rhyme,  2 if. ;  range  of,  23fE.  ;  essentially  religious 
character  of,  47ff. 

Heraclitus,  297  n. 

Heaed,  fatherly  love,  I34f. 

Hodvl,  Psalms,  ii2f. 

Holiness  of  God,  13 if. 

Home  life  in  the  Psalms,  iii,  i65f.  ;   in   Proverbs,   283^. 

'I.'  The,  of  the  Psalms,  iiCf. 

Imagination,  Boldness  of  Hebrew,  5,  35 

ImmortaUty,   Hope  of,   in  the    Psalter,    i72ff.  ;     in    Job, 

24off.  ;    in  the  Wisdom  of  Solomon,  346f. 
Imru'1-Kais,  27  «.,  145  n. 

Instrumental  music  in  the  Old  Testament,  545. 
Isaac,  Blessing  of,  38 
Israel,  Jahweh's  righteous  rule  over,  i87£f. 

Jacob,  Blessing  of,  4of. 

Jahweh  in  the  Psalter,   i28ff,  ;    His    appearance  in  Job, 

2i5ff..  248ff. 

23 


3  54  General  Index 

Jahweh,  Book  of  the  Wars  of,  6yi. 

Jamnia,  Synod  of,  310,  329 

Jashar,  Book  of,  6of. 

Jeremiah,  Relation  of,  to  Lamentations,  yifi.  ;  to  Job,  208  n. 

Jerusalem,  the  Psalmist's  joy  and  pride  in,  iSyf.  ;  the 
metropolis  of  a  God-fearing  world,  i94£f. 

Job,  Book  of  :  literary  character  of,  202f.  ;  problem  of 
203f .  ;  contrasts  between  Prologue  and  poem,  204fi.  ; 
origin  and  date  of  prose  section,  2o6f[.  ;  the  poem 
of  Job,  2o8ff.  ;  the  dramatis  personcB,  210  ;  dislocations 
in  the  text,  21  iff.  ;  the  speeches  of  Elihu,  2i3ff.  ;  the 
Divine  appearance,  2i5ff.  ;  the  solution  of  the  problem, 
2i8ff.  ;    the    poetical  quality  of  the  Book,  22off. 

Job,  the  patience  of,  223ff .  ;  the  spiritual  drama  of,  229ff. 

Jonathan,  David's  Elegy  on,  46f. 

Joshua,  Battle-song  of,  35 

Joy  of  religion  in  the  Psalter,   159 

Jeremiah,  Relation  of,  to  Lamentations,  yiS. 

Khayyam,  Omar,  44,  332 
Kindh  measure  in  Hebrew,   18  ff.,  yiff. 
Kingdom  of  God  in  the  Psalms,   i85ff. 
Koheleth,  333  ;    see  also  Ecclesiastes. 
'  Korah,  the  Sons  of,'  Psalter  of,  io5f. 

Lamech,  Song  of,  21,  27 

Lamentations  in  Israel,  44ff. 

Lamentations,  Book  of :    its  literary    form,  i8f .,  71  ;    its 

relation  to  Jeremiah  and    Ezekiel,  7iff.  ;    authorship 

and  dates  of    the  different  lays,  75ff.  ;    translations, 

78ff. 
Law,  Love  of,  in    Psalms,  i63f. ;    place  of,  in  Proverbs, 

263ff. 

Lemuel,  Words  of,  269 

Love  and  mercy  in  the  Psalms,  132  ff.,  i6off. 

Maccabean  Psalms,  The  question  of,  106  «.,   ii3f. 

Man  in  the  Psalms  :    his   kinship  with  Nature,  i48f.,  153  ; 


General   Index  355 


his  Godlike  dignity,  154  ;  as  the  friend  of  God,  I55ff.  ; 

his  joy  in    God,  i58f.  ;    likeness  to  God  in  character, 

I59ff.  ;    freedom,  peace,    and    happiness,  16  zft.  ;    sin 

and  forgiveness,  ibyff.  ;    immortality,   lyaff. 
Mashal  as  satire,  35  ;    as   proverb,  25 yf.  ;    as  parable,  257 
MaskU,  102  n. 

Melodies,  Early  Hebrew,  25,  27,  5off. 
Messiah  of  the  Psalter,   igSfE. 
Metre,  Principles  of  Hebrew,  8ff. 
Miriam,  Song  of,  28 
Mikhtdm,   102  n. 
Mizmor,   102  n. 
Morality   in   the     Psalter,   its   rehgious    basis,    isgf.  ;     its 

lofty    standard,  i6of.  ;    its  close  relation  to  common 

life,  i6if. 
Morality   in  Job,  246f.  ;    in    Proverbs,  266ff.  ;    in    Ecciesi- 

astes,  34if. 
Moses,  Song  of,  29f.  ;    Blessing  of,  42 
Mosh'Um  as  rhapsodists,  67 
Musical  accompaniments  of  Hebrew  Song,  5off. 
„        notes  in  the  Psalter,   loSf. 

Nature,  the  Hebrews'  love  of,  27  n.  ;  in  the  Psalms,  I42ff.  ; 
the  inner  hfe  of  Nature,  i46f.  ;  sympathy  between 
Nature  and  man,  i47f.  ;  Nature  the  work  of  God, 
I48f.  ;  Nature's  praise  of  God,  i49f.  ;  Nature  a 
revelation  of  God,  1502. 

Nature-songs  in  the  Old  Testament,  26f. 

Noah,  Blessing  of,  37f. 

Odes  of  Solomon,  see  Solomon. 

Paneas,  145,  148 

Parallehsm  in  Hebrew  poetry,   iifE. 

Patriotism  in  Proverbs,   259fE. 

Philo,  3oof. 

Pindar,  54  n. 

Plato,  I,  54  M.,  281  w.,  30of. 

Poey,  Characteristics  of.  iff. 


356 


General   Index 


Proverbs,  Nature  and  origin  of,  255f.  ;  essence  of  Hebrew 
proverb,  257ff.  ;  '  proverbs  of  the  ancients,'  258f.  ; 
'  proverbs  of  Solomon,'  2^gft.  ;  '  proverbs  of  the 
wise,'  26of. 

Proverbs,  Book  of :  growth  of,  26iff.  ;  date  of  different 
parts,  263ff.  ;  humanistic  standpoint,  264f .  ;  rehgious 
value,  265f.  ;  beginnings  of  speculation,  268ff.  ;  the 
good  man  of  the  Proverbs,  27iff.  ;  the  thoughts  of 
the  wise,  295ff. 

Psalter  :  the  '  heart  of  the  Bible,'  gyi.  ;  origin  and  growth 
of,  ggff.  ;  the  '  Psalms  of  David,'  looff.  ;  the  '  Prayers 
of  David,'  i03f.  ;  the  Psalms  of  Asaph  and  Korah, 
i05f.  ;  the  Elohistic  Psalter,  io6f.  ;  the  '  Choir- 
master's Psalter,'  io8f.  ;  the  '  Songs  of  Ascents,' 
inf.  ;  the  Hallel  and  HodH  groups,  ii2f.  ;  Macca- 
bean  Psalms,  iisf.  ;  completion  of  the  Psalter, 
ii4ff.  ;  its  literary  quality,  iiSf.  ;  its  religious 
value,  iiQff.  ;  God,  Nature,  life  and  immortality  in 
the  Psalter,  i2off.  ;  the  Kingdom  of  God,  i85ff.  ; 
vindictive  elements  in  the  Psalter,  162,  178,  igoff.  ; 
approach  to  Christian  universalism,  162,  i92ff. 

Psalter  of  Solomon,  see  Solomon. 

Rahdmim,  motherly  compassion,  135. 
Rhythm  in  Hebrew  poetry,  8ff. 
Rhyme  in  Hebrew  poetry,  2 if. 
Righteousness  of  God  in  the  Psalms,  i2gfi. 

Samson,  and  his  satires,  37  ;    his  riddles,  257 

Sayings  of  the  Fathers,  268 

Selah,  logi. 

Sheba,  Battle-song  of,  27f. 

Sheol,  Conception  of,  in  the  Old  Testament,  175,  2403. 

Shepherd-songs  in  the  Old  Testament,  25 

Shiggdyon,  102  n. 

Sihon,  Satire  over  the  city  of,  35f. 

Sin  and  forgiveness  in  the  Psalms,   i68fi. 

Social  hfe  in  Proverbs,  277ff. 


General   Index  357 

Solomon,  his  song  of  Dedication,  49  ;  literary  impulse  of 
his  reign,  68  ;  his  relation  to  the  proverbs  of  Israel, 
259f. 

Solomon,  Odes  of,  114  «.,  30if.,  311 
„         Psalter  of,  113  w.,  200 
„         Wisdom  of,  43f.,  299f.,  346f. 

Song  in  ancient  Israel,  23ff.  ;  its  musical  quality,  50S. ; 
instrumental  accompaniments  of,  54ff. 

Song  of  Songs :  literary  charm  of,  309  ;  acceptance  into 
Canon  at  Synod  of  Jamnia,  310  ;  allegorical  inter- 
pretations, 3 1  off.  ;  dramatic  theories,  3i4f.  ;  an 
anthology  of  love  and  marriage  songs,  31511.  ;  date 
of  songs,  3i7f.  ;  Northern  origin  of,  318  :  transla- 
tions, 3i9ff. 

Songs  of  Ascents,  13,  19,  inf. 

Sophocles  and  the  problem  of  suffering,  2i9f. 

Speculative  philosophy.  Beginnings  of,  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, 295ff. 

Stanzas  or  strophes  in  Hebrew  poetry,  2of. 

Suffering,  the  problem  of,  in  the   Psalter,  i72fE. ;    in  Job, 

202ff. 

T%illah,  119 

T'philldh,  102  n.,  119 

Temperance,  Inculcation  of,  in  Proverbs,  279 

Temple,  Love  of,  in  the  Psalter,  i55ff. 

Vindictive  element  in  the  Psalter,   162,   178,   i9off. 
Vintage  songs  in  the  Old  Testament,  24f. 

WcU-song  in  the  Old  Testament,  25f. 

Wisdom  in  Proverbs,  Ethical  quality  of,  27of.  ;  personifi- 
cation of  Wisdom,  296f.  ;  Song  of  Wisdom  (Job 
xxviii.),  212,  302ff. 

Wisdom  of  Solomon,  see  Solomon. 

Wise  men  of    Israel,  26of.  ;    thoughts  of  the    wise,  2955. 

Worship  in  the    Psalms,  Spiritual  essence  of,  i58£f. 


INDEX    OF  AUTHORITIES 


Aben  Ezra,  117  w.,  125 
Akiba,  Rabbi,  310 
Aquila,  109,  297  n. 
Aquinas,  Thomas,  311 

Baentsch,  36  n. 
Baethgen,   118  w.,   179  n. 
Barbour,  J.,  258  n. 
Barton,  G.  A.,  331  «.,  333  n. 

335  »*• 
Beer,  118  w.,  244  «.,  249  w., 

252  n. 
Bellermann,  J.  J.,  15!.,  19 
Bengel,   113  w. 
Bernard  of  Clairvaux,  311 
Bickell,     17,     78  w.,     82 «., 

83W.,  I24W.,253«..  335». 
Blake,  Buchanan,  216 
Blake,  WiUiam,  147,  151  n., 

218  n.,  220 
Bossuet,  3i3f. 
Briggs,  106  n.,  1 10  n. 
Biicher,  Karl,  9 
Budde,     igf.,    26  n.,    34  n., 

48  n.,    68  n.,  y6fi.,    2o6f., 

2i3£f.,  3i6f. 
Buhl,  181  n.,  194  n. 
Burkitt,  F.  C,  49  w. 
Burns,  14 

Calvin,  113  w.,  117  m.,  134  m. 


Carlyle,  2,  222 

Cheyne,  uy  n.,  135,  179  M., 

216  n.,  218  n. 
Cornill,  52  n.,  207  n.,  215  «., 

264  «.,  333  w.,  345 

Dalman,  26  n.,  317,  321 
Davidson,  A.  B.,  204,  2ioff., 

241  n.,  262f.,  335  n. 
Davies,  T.  Witton,  48  n. 
Davison,     W.     T.,     118  w., 

179  «.,  2iy  n. 
Delitzsch,  Franz,     102  n., 

204,  331  n. 
Delitzsch,  Fried.,  203  n. 
Dillmann,  203  f.,  206 
Dillon,   E.   J.,   203  n.,   306, 

34of. 
Driver,  215  w.,  264  m.,  315 
Duhm,    21,    113  w.,    118  n., 

124  w.,  133  w.,  146  ».,  179 

n.,    199  n.,  2o6ff.,  24ifE., 

302  n. 
Dyserinck,  83  «.,  94  n. 

Ehrt,  114M. 

Ewald,  80  w.,  102  n.,  105  m., 
204  w.,  314 

Frankenberg,  264 
Fullerton,  Kemper,  114  M. 


368 


Index  of  Authorities         359 


Gall,  von,  38  w, 
Godet,  204!. 
Gray,  G.  B.,  39  n. 
Gummere,  45  n. 
Gunkel,  41  w.,  118  m. 

Haupt,  no  n.,  318  «.,  335  n. 

Heine,  329 

Hengstenberg,  iiy  n.,     119, 

179  n.,  215  n. 
Herder,  4«.,   5  w.,  i^i.,  314 
Hitzig,   ii3«. 
Holzinger,  39  n. 

Jerome,  72  n.,  109 
Josephus,  58,  63,  72  n. 

Kautzsch,  Karl,  205  n.,  207 

n. 
Kennett,  R.  H.,   113  «. 
Kennicott,  211 
Kimhi,  117  w. 
Kittel,  31  n.,  etc. 
Kuenen,  15,  264  «. 

Lane,  E.  W.,  52  n. 
Lanier,  Sidney,  1 1  w. 
Ley,  Julius,  i6f.,  19 
Littmann,  E.,  28«,  317 
Lohr,  80  n. 
Lowth,  iiff.,  18,  3i3f. 
Luther,  98  n. 

McCheyne,  312  «. 
McFadyen,  89  n.,  21511., 

335  «• 
McNeile,     A.    H.,    331    n., 

333  «•,  335  »• 
Meier,  Ernst,  i6f. 
Milton,  3  «.,  220 


Mijller,  D.  H.,  21 
Miiller,  Eugen,  203  n. 
Musil,  26  n. 

Niebuhr,  309 
Nilus,  26  n 
Noldeke,  75  n 
Nowack  264  w. 

Olshausen,   113  n.,   117  ». 
Origen,  311 

Palm,  van  der,  333 «, 
Peake,    A.  S.,    203,    2i2fif., 

335 
Pfleiderer,  E.,  333  n. 
Plumptre,  331  n.,  333  n. 

Raschi,  117  n.,  211 
Renan,  310  n.,  315,  329 
Reuss,  117  n. 

Riedel,  311  w. 

Robinson,  Wheeler,  318  n. 

Rothstein,  17,  21,  315 

Rudinger,  113  n.,  117  n. 

Rutherford,  Samuel,  312 

Schechter,   114  w. 

Schmidt,  Nath.,  207  n.,  216 

n.,  318  n. 
Schneller,  Ludwig,  64  n. 
Schopenhauer,  338  n.,  34of. 
Shelley,  gi. 
Siegfried,    331  n.,    333  «., 

335  »*• 
Sievers,  17 
Skinner,  41  n.,  49  n. 
Smend,  Rud.,  117  w. 
Smith,  G.  A.,  46  m.,  49 «., 

79  n.,  80  n.,  145  n. 


360        Index   of  Authorities 


Smith,  Walter  C,  273  n. 
Smith,  W.  Robertson,  49  n., 

11711. 
Stade,  36  w. 
Studer,  216  M. 

Tennyson,  202,  335  n. 
Thackeray,  St.  J.,  49  w- 
Theodore     of     Mopsuestia, 
113  w.,  313 


Toy,  C.  H.,  264  M.,  277  n. 

Wallaschek,  59 
Weir,  T.  H.,  26  n. 
Wellhausen,     49  w.,     57  w, 

180  n.,  195  n.,  206 
Wetzstein,  3i6f. 
Wildeboer,  215  «.,  333  n. 
Wordsworth,  i,  340,  346 

Zirkel,  333  n. 


INDEX  OF   SCRIPTURE   REFERENCES 


Gen.  ii.  7     . 

iv.  21    . 

iv.  23f. 

V.  24 

ix.  25f[. 

X.  9.      . 

xxiv.  60 

XXV.  23 

xxvi.  27ff. 

xxxi.  27 

xlix. 

1.   10      . 
Exod.  XV.  iff. 

XV.    2of. 

xxxi.  27 

xxxii.  18 
Lev.  xxiii.  24 

XXV.   9   . 

Num.  X.  2ff. 

X.  35*- 

xxi.  I4f. 

xxi.  lyf. 

xxi.  27ff. 

xxiii.,  xxiv 

xxix.  I 
Deut.  xxxii. 

xxxiii.    . 
Josh.  vi.  5  . 

x.    I2f. 


PAGE 

345  ^«- 

60,  62 

.     27 

181  n. 

37f- 
.  258 
.  42 
.  38 
.  38 
43,  63 
.  4of. 

•  44 
18,  29f. 

'.  53,  55 
.  63 
.     48 

•  57 

•  57 

•  58 
48,  68 

36f.,  67f. 
.     26 

.35f. 
38ff. 

•  57 
21,  71 

4if. 

.     56 

35.  69 


Judges  iii.  27 

V. 

V.  3.  . 
V.   II,  15 

V.    12 

V.    22,    26 

vi.  34  . 
xi.  34  . 
xi.  35    . 

xi.  40  . 
xiv.   iiff. 

XV.    16    . 

xvi.  24  . 
xxi.  21  . 

1  Sam.  ii.  iff. 

X.  5ff.  . 
X.  12  . 
xiii.  3.  . 
xvi.  i6ff. 
xviii.  6f. 
xix.  24 
xxiv.   14 

2  Sam.  i.  i8ff. 

ii.  28     . 

iii-  33f- 
vi.  5      . 
vi.  i4ff. 
viii.  2    . 
XV.  10  . 


PAGE 

.  •  5f> 
3iff.,  68 
12 

•  25 
.     27 

7 

•  56 
28,  53ff. 

.     45 

.     44 

43,  257 

.     37 

22.  37 

•  54 

42  n. 

54,  6off. 

258f. 

•  56 
.     63 

8f.,  53ff. 

•  259 
.   258 

46f.,  69 

•  57 
45f. 

5f..  62ff. 

•  54 
36  M. 

•  57 


861 


362    Index  of  Scripture  References 


PAGE 

PAGE 

2  Sam.  xviii.  16     . 

•       57 

Job  xviii. 

.       238f. 

xviii.  33      .      . 

•     45 

xviii.  19 

8in. 

xix.  35        .      . 

43  «. 

xix. 

239.  243 

XX.     I        .         .         . 

.     28 

xix.  23f. 

.       2431 

XX.    22 

•     57 

xxi.  yfi. 

239,  245 

I  Kings  i.  34    .      . 

•     57 

xxi.   I  if.      . 

43.  53.  60 

i.  40 

.     60 

xxii. 

.  221,245 

iv.  32f. 

.   260 

xxiii. 

.      •   245 

viii.  I2f.      . 

49,  69 

xxiv. 

20  n.,  211 

xiii.  30. 

•      45 

XXV. 

211,  245 

XX.    II    . 

•   259 

xxvi.  5ff.     . 

.   211 

2  Kings  ii.  i,  gf.    . 

181  n. 

XX vii.  jfi.  . 

.211,245 

xi.   14    .      .      . 

.     58 

xxviii.    . 

212,   302f. 

I  Chron.  xv.   lyff. 

.   107 

xxix.-xxxi. 

XV.   2of. 

.     65 

8,  20  n., 

212,  246ff. 

xvi.  5    .      .      . 

.     62 

xxix.  13 

.      .     43 

XXV.  5f. 

•     56 

XXX.  9  . 

.      .     44 

2  Chron.  v.  12 

•     58 

XXX.  31 

.      .     60 

V.  13      .      . 

65,  no 

xxxii.-xxxvii    .      2i3ff. 

XXXV.  25     . 

44.  72 

XXX viii.,  xxxix. 

Ezra  ii.   41  . 

.    107 

2i5f.,  248ff. 

ii-  55     .      • 

533  w. 

xl.  I  ff.,  205,  216,  253 

Neh.  vii.  44 

.    107 

xl.  15  -  xii. 

34-     2i5f. 

xii .  27  . 

.      .     63 

xlii.  iff.    21 

6,  218,  254 

Job  i.,  ii.     . 

223ff. 

xlii.  yS. 

205,  227f. 

iii.  iff. 

.     229 

Ps.  i.      .      .7, 

i2f.,  100  n.. 

iii.  i3ff.      . 

8,  180  n. 

142, 

i59f.,    165 

iv.,  V.    . 

229!. 

ii.      .        7f., 

12,  100  n.. 

vi.,  vii. 

230f. 

116 

,  127,  198!. 

vi.  8ff.  .      . 

.   240 

iii.,  iv.  . 

.102, 135 

viii. 

.      .   232 

iv.     7f. 

138.   159, 

ix.,  x.    . 

.       232ff. 

163 

X.  22 

.  240 

V.      .      . 

60,    lOlf. 

xi.    .      .      . 
xii.,  xii^ 

.    .  236 

.       236f. 

V      /I . 

.   131 

V.     ^. 

v.    12       . 

.      .      -135 

xiv. 

24lf. 

vi.,  vii. 

.   102 

xvi. 

.       239f. 

vi.  5      • 

.      .      .175 

Index  of  Scripture  References    363 


PAGE 

Ps.   vii.  4f 162 

vii.  g,  II    .      .      135^- 

viii.        .      8,  loi,  103, 

144,   150,  I53f. 

ix.,  X.    .      .  100  n.,  loi 

ix.  yf 186 

ix.  9      .      .      .      .   138 

X.  iff 177 

x.  18  .  .  .  .  136 
xi.  4ff.  .  122,  126,  131 
xiii.  3  .  .  .  180  n. 
xiv.  .  .  .  loi,  120 
XV.  .  loi,  139,  155, 
i6of.,  165 
xvi.  5  .  .  .  .139 
xvi.  8  .  .  .  .  126 
xvi.  lof.  .  loi,  103, 
136,  182 
xvii.  7  .  .  .  .134 
xvii.  8  .  .  .  i35f. 
xvii.  14!.  .  io2f.,  179 
xviii.  2  .  .  .138 
xviii.  yS. 

123,  129,  145,  149 
xviii.  i6f.  .  .  135 
xviii.  23  .  .  .  160 
xviii.  25!  .  .  .  127 
xviii.  30  .  .  .  307 
xviii.  3i£E. 

100,  103,   126,  129 


xix.  ifi. 

xix.  7ff. 
xix.  I2f. 
xix.  14 

XX.    . 

xxi. 


loi,   103, 

144.  151 
.  103,  1631 
.    .    .171 

.      .       i38f. 

loi,  122,  188 

.      loi.  188 


PAGE 

Ps.   xxii.       .    27,  loi,  116 

176,  194 

xxiii.       .   8,  19,  looff., 

i39f-,  155 
xxiv.  iS. 

loi,  122,  160,   163 

xxiv.  7ff.  20  n.,  100,129 

XXV.       .      .      loi,  103, 

i32ff.,    163,    166 

XXV.  6ff.      .      .      .171 

xxvii.     .    19,  loi,  103, 

122,  i34ff.,  155 

xxviii.  8f.  .      .    loi 

xxix.      .    13,   loi,  103, 

1451,   149,  151 

XXX.    54,   134,   136,  175 

xxxi.  8,   15       .      .    163 

xxxii.  io2f.,  136,    i68f. 

xxxiii.     63,  100  n.,  i86 

xxxiii.  5      .       132,  151 

xxxiv.    .  loi,  I35f.,  163 

xxxiv.  i2ff.      .      .165 

XXXV.  I3f.        .      .   162 

xxxvi.  iff.         159,  173 

xxxvi.  5ff.        .         103 

I33f.,  138,  149,    151 

xxxvii.  .         loif.,  127, 

165,   174.   177 

xl.    .      .      .       126,  134 

xl.  6ff.         .      .      .    159 

xlii.,  xliii.   .  105,  I44f., 

148,  1551, 

xliii.  4  .      .      .      .63 

xliv.       .       105,  106  n., 

126,    191 

xlv.        .      .   20  n.,    27, 

43  w.,   105,   189 


364   Index  of  Scripture  References 


Ps.  xlvi. 


PAGE 

105,    129, 

138,    148,   l87f. 

xlviii.  2       .   80  n.,  187 

xlix.       .      .    105,  ijgfi. 

1.  2 187 

1.  8fE 159 

li.  .  104,  136,  i59f., 
1691 
lii.  5  ....  178 
liii.  .  . 
liv.,  Iv, 
Iv.  6  . 
Iv.  22  . 
Ivi.-lviii 
Ivi.  13  ■ 
Ivii.  Iff. 


.   103 
.    104 
144,178 
•   163 
25,  27,  104 
•      •   136 
104.  132, 
134.  139 
lix.  8     .      .      .      .    127 

Ix.  5ff 104 

Ixi.  7  .  .  .  .158 
Ixiii.  3,  7  .  .134.139 
ixv.  ,  104,  133,  136, 
143,  i47ff.,  197 
Ixvii.  2ff.  .  .  .  197 
Ixviii.  18,  56,  104,  141 
Ixviii.  y&.  .  .  122 
Ixix.  12  ...  44 
Ixix.  23ff.  .  .  .178 
Ixx.,  Ixxi.  .  .  .  103 
Ixxii.  .  104,  i89  2oof. 
Ixxii.  16  .  .  .  143 
Ixxiii.     .      105  7t.,  i82f. 


Ixxiv. 
Ixxiv.  I3ff. 
Ixxvii.  7ff. 
Ixxviii.  65f. 
Ixxix.     . 


106  n. 
.   129 

.    134 
.    127 

156  M. 


Ps.  Ixxix.  13     . 
Ixxx.  I 
Ixxxi.  2 
Ixxxi.   I3ff. 
Ixxxiii.  . 
Ixxxiii.  I3ff, 
Ixxxiv.  . 


PAGE 
.  139 
.  139 
.  56 
.    193 

106  n. 

.  192 
108,  139, 
144,  i56fE. 
108,  I32f. 

.    121 

.      .   132 
108,  194!?. 

.    175 


Ixxxv.  yii. 

Ixxxvi.  8 

Ixxxvi.  15 

Ixxxvii. . 

Ixxxviii.  loff. 

Ixxxix.  6f.  .      .121 

Ixxxix.  8ff.  .      .   129 

Ixxxix.  14!.  .      .186 

Ixxxix.  igff.  .      .189 

Ixxxix.  26f.  .      .141 

XC.    112,    I22f.,  143,  172 

xci.  .      .   112,  158,  165 

xcii.  3   .      .  .      .63 

xcii.  12.      .  ,      .    143 

xciii.-c.    112,  123,    197 


xciu.  3.. 
xcv.  7   . 
xcvi.  I  if. 
xcvii. 
xcviii.  2f. 
xcviii.  8f. 
c. 
ci.  2ff 


.    .  145 
.    .  139 

147.  149 

.       i97f. 

.      .   133 

.      .   147 

o  n.,  116,  139 

.   160 


cii.  113,  144,  166,  187 
ciii.  .  i37f.,  1431,  155 
civ.  .     123,  i43f.,  1481 

cvii 136 

cviii 112 

cix.  8ff.       ...   178 


Index  of  Scripture  References    365 


Ps.    ex.    . 
cxi.  3f. 
cxii.  6   . 
cxiii.  4£f.     . 
cxiv.  4ff.     . 

CXV.    2ff. 

cxviii.        113, 
cxix. 

cxx.-cxxxiv.  . 
cxxi.  iff.       13 
cxxii.     . 
cxxiii.  2 
cxxiv.  7 
cxxv.  if.     . 
cxxvi.  4,  5f. 
cxxviii.  2f. 

Ill, 
cxxix.  8 
cxxx.  4 
cxxxiii.     Ill, 
cxxxvi.  iff. 
cxxxvii.  2  . 
cxxxvii.  yff. 
cxxxviii.  6. 
cxxxix. 
cxlv.  18 
cxlvii.  3ff.  . 
cxlviii.  . 
cxlix.  3 
cl.     .      .      . 
Prov.  i.-ix.  . 

.  7  .      .      . 
.10      .      . 

.    24ff,   .        . 

ii.  Iff.   .      . 
iii.  II    . 
iii.  i3ff. 


PAGE 

iggi. 

•   132 

.     .  166 

.     .  124 

.     .  147 

I2lf, 

134.    139 

112,    164 

Illf. 

136,  143 

.     Ill 

.        .     158 

.        .     144 

•        .     143 
.        .     143 

143.  165 

.  48 

.  136 

143.  165 

•  134 
63,  148 
112, 190 

•  125 
1251 

.     124 

•  125 

I49f. 

54.  56 

54.  116 

268f. 

.   270 

.   289 

.   292 

.   269 

•   293 

.  292 


Prov.  iii.   igf. 
iii-  27-35 
iii.  27f. 
iv.  Iff. 
iv.  16    . 
iv.  25ff. 
iv.  18    . 

V.    Iff.     . 

vi.  1-19 
vi.  9ff. 
vi.  2oflE. 
vii.  iff. 
viii.  I5f. 
viii.  22ff. 
ix.  Iff.    . 
ix.  10    . 
X.   i-xxii. 

X.    I, 

X.  2. 
X.  4f.  . 
X.  9,  25,  i 
X.  15  . 
X.  23  . 
X.  27  . 
xi.  II  . 
xi.  15  . 
xi.  18  . 
xi.  22  . 
xi.  26  . 
xi.  28  . 
xii.  4  . 
xii.  10  . 
xiii.  3  . 
xiii.  II  . 
xiii.  20  . 
xiii.  24  . 
xiv.  4    . 


26 


9f. 


PAGE 
.  296 
.  268 
.  278 
.  287 
■  277 
.  289 
.  293 
.  289 
.  268 

•  275 
.  289 
.  289 

265  «.,  295 
269,  2961 
.  298 
.  272 
264ff. 
.  286 

•  275 
.  273 
.  292 

•  274 

•  277 
.  272 
.  291 
.  276 
.  294 
,  288 

•  277 

•  275 
.  288 
,  280 
,  278 
>  275 
,  282 
,  286 

•  273 


366   Index  of  Scripture  References 


PAGE 

PAGB 

V.  xiv.  10     .      .      .  280 

Prov.  xxi.  17     . 

.    276 

xiv.  20  . 

•    274 

xxii.   I  . 

•       •    275 

xiv.  26f. 

.    272 

xxii.  2  . 

•       •    277 

xiv.  29  . 

.    278 

xxii.  6,   15 

.       .    286 

xiv.  31  . 

277,   280 

xxii.  8  . 

•       .    294 

xiv.  34  . 

.    290 

xxii.   13 

.    276 

XV.    I,    4,    I 

B 

.    278 

xxii.   17-xxiv. 

22.    268 

XV.  17  . 

.    283 

xxii.   22f.     . 

•    277 

XV.  20  . 

.    286 

xxii.  28 

.    276 

xvi.  6    , 

.    294 

xxii.  29 

•    274 

xvi.  8,  II 

•    274 

xxiii.  2 

•    279 

xvi.   12 

.    291 

xxiii.  4f.      . 

•    275 

xvi.  24,  32 

.    278 

xxiii.   10 

•     277 

xvii.   I   . 

.    283 

xxiii.   13 

.    286 

xvii.  9  . 

.    27S 

xxiii.  26ff. 

.    289 

xvii.   17 

.    282 

xxiii.  29ff. 

•    279 

xvii.   18,  24 

.    276 

xxiv.  II,   I7f. 

.    280 

xvii.  21,  25 

.    286 

xxiv.  20 

•    293 

xviii.  8 

.    278 

xxiv.  2 iff. 

.    290 

xviii.  22 

.    284 

xxiv.  23-34 

.    268 

xviii.  24 

.    282 

xxv.-xxvii. 

26lff. 

xix.  7    . 

264  n. 

XXV.  6f. 

.    279 

xix.  14 

.   284 

XXV.  8f.       . 

.    276 

xix.  17 

.  280 

XXV.  II,  19,  2lf 

.'  26lff.. 

xix.  18 

.   286 

281 

xix.  24 

•  275 

XXV.  17 

.  278 

XX.      I 

.   279 

XXV.  20 

,  280 

XX.   4 

.  276 

XXV.  25 

.  289 

XX.  6 

.   282 

xxvi.  3,  14,  23 

.  261 

XX.  10 

.   274 

xxvi.   13,  15.   2 

52,  2751 

XX.   14 

.   276 

xxvi.  17 

.  276 

XX.  22 

.   280 

xxvii.  6,   10 

.  282 

XX.   28 

.  291 

xxvii.  8       .      : 

>62,  289 

xxi.  3 

•  274 

xxvii.  15     . 

.  288 

xxi.  6 

•  275 

xxvii.  17,  19    . 

.  281 

xxi.  9,  19 

.  288 

xxvii.  i8ff. 

.  263 

xxi.  14 

.  278 

xxvii.  22     . 

.  261 

Index  of  Scripture  References    367 


15 


Prov.  xxvii.  23ff. 

xxviii.,  xxix. 

xxviii.  4ff. 

xxviii.  6 

xxviii.   12, 

xxviii.   13 

xxviii.  20 

xxix.   2ff. 

xxix.  5 

xxx. 

xxxi.  1-9 

xxxi.  10-31 
Eccles.  i.  2  . 

i.  3ff.     . 

i.  I2ff. 

ii.  Iff.    . 

ii.  i2ff. 

ii.  i8ff. 

ill.  i6ff. 

iv.  2f.  . 

iv,  8-viii.  i 

V.  8f.     . 

vii.  10  . 

vii.  i6f. 

vii.  26ff. 

ix.  ii-xii. 

x.  5ff.    . 

x.  i6f. 

xi.  7 

xi.  gfi. 
Song  i.  2f[.  . 

i.  7f.      • 

i.  9ff.     . 

ii.  Iff.   . 

ii.  Sff.    . 

iii.  iff.  . 

iv.  Iff.  . 


PAGE 
.     273 

2  63f[. 

.  263 
•  274 

.  291 

•  .  293 

•  •  275 

.   291 

.     .  278 

2G9,  304ff. 

.    269 

270,  284f. 

.      •   335 

•  •   336 

•  .   336 
.       336f. 

•  •   337 
.       337f- 

330,  338 

331.  339 
off.      .   339 

330,  339 
343 


3T5 


343 
332 
340 
330 
331 
343 
343 
318 
319 
319 

315.320 
18,  320 

315.321 

322f. 


Song  iv.  i2ff. 
V.   Iff.    . 
V.   loff. 
vi.  Sff. 
vii.   loff. 
viii.  if. 
viii.  6f. 
viii.  9ff. 

Isa.  V.   iff. 
V.   12 
ix.  3      . 
xiv.  II 
xvi.   10 
xvii.   I2ff, 
xxiii.   16 
xxiv.  9 
xxvii.   13 
xxix.   14 
xxx.  29 

LXV.    8    . 

Jer.  vii.  34  . 
ix.  i7ff. 
xviii.  18 
XX.  I4ff. 
xxii.  18 
XXV.  30 
xxxi.  29 
xlviii.  33 
xlviii.  36 
xlviii.  45 

Lam.  i.   , 
ii. 

ii.  I. 
ii.  4. 
ii.  9 
ii.  14 
ii.  15 


PAGB 

•  323 
.    324 

•  324 
.  325 
.  326 
.    326 

315.    327 

3271 

.       24 

60,    63  f. 

25 
64 

25 

7 
63 
43 
57 

260 
60 
25 
43 
45 

260 

208 
45 
24 

258 

24 
61 

40  n. 
85ff. 
78ff. 

76  n. 

77  n. 

74 

74,  77  n. 
76  n. 


368    Index  of  Scripture  References 


Lam.  iii. 

iii.  14    . 
iv.    , 
iv.  6 
iv.  lyff. 
iv.  2  if. 

V. 

V.  14!.. 
Ezek.  xii.  22 

xiii.  iff. 

xiv.  14,  20 

xvi.  44 

xvi.  46ff. 

xviii.  2 

xix.  4,  8 

xxi.  32 

xxiv.  i6ff. 

xxvii.  3f. 

xliii.  7  . 
Dan.  iii.  5ff. 
Hos.  V.  8     . 


43 


PAGE 

giff. 
.     44 

82ff. 

76  n. 

•     74 

76  n. 
89ff. 

54.  63 
.  259 

77  n. 
.  206 
.   258 

76  n. 
.  258 
76  «. 
41  «. 
77   n. 

76  n. 

77  n. 
61,  64 

57f. 


Amos  iii.  6  . 

V.  16 

V.  23     . 

vi.  5f.    . 
Nah.  ii.  3ff. 
Zech.  iii. 

ix.   14    . 
Mai.  ii.   17  ;    iii 
Matt.  vi.  26ff. 

ix.  24    . 

xi.   17    . 

xxii.  32 

xxiv.  31 
John  i.   14    . 

xi.   II    . 

xi.  25f. 

xvii.  2  . 
I  Cor.  XV.  52 
Gal.  iii.  28  . 
I  Thess.  iv.   16 
Heb.  i.  3      . 


14 


PAGE 

•  57 

•  45 
49.  64 

•  43 

7 
.   207 

.  58 
.  207 
.  219 
180  n. 

•  53 

.   184 

.  58 

.  301 
180  n. 

.  184 

•  347 
.  58 
.  197 
.  58 
.  301 


Butler  and  Tan>t*r,  The  Sel-wttd  Printint;  U^erkt,  Frame,  and  Lendon 


Date  Due 


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